


White Lies, Pink Lines

by Pvenom



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe, Baby Harry, Bottom Harry Styles, Dom Louis, Fluff and Humor, Forced Cohabitation, Harry in Panties, Implied/Referenced Abortion, Implied/Referenced Dubious Consent, Jealous Louis, M/M, Misunderstandings, Mpreg, Mpreg Harry, Parents Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson, Past Domestic Violence, Past Relationship(s), Past Underage, Personal Growth, Rape/Non-con Elements, Recreational Drug Use, Sad and Happy, Sub Harry, Suspension Of Disbelief, Top Louis Tomlinson
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-04
Updated: 2019-06-13
Packaged: 2019-10-02 15:34:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 7
Words: 69,990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17266817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pvenom/pseuds/Pvenom
Summary: If only I met you first...All 18-year-old Harry Styles wanted was to be loved. Louis Tomlinson was just a 24-year-old closet case trying to find himself...and someone to love.Join them and their friends on a rollercoaster journey of self-discovery as they learn to trust in each other for the future before the past tears them apart.





	1. You've Got A Friend

**Author's Note:**

> *** Before you skip to the fun stuff, please be aware that there are WARNINGS/TRIGGERS for this story, including but not limited to: panic attacks, physical domestic and verbal abuse, miscarriage, and reference to abortion and rape. Don't worry, it doesn't all happen at once. There may be more important warnings for future chapters, so **please always read the authors notes**. Thank you!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _By the time Harry returns less than ten minutes later, Niall has slid his phone back into his pocket and asks Harry where he left the rest of his stuff._
> 
> _“This it? I thought there’d be loads more. Just taking what you can carry? I told you I can get the rest, I really don’t mind. You can bring whatever you want, Curly, bring everything!”_
> 
> _“No need, Ni, this is everything.”_
> 
> _Niall is about to laugh because Harry’s life cannot be this sad._
> 
> _“Seriously? Two duffel bags and a lunchbox?”_
> 
> _Harry nods, eyes cast down at the pavement. “Two duffel bags and a lunchbox.”_

 

 

 

“Ok, dear. Will you drink this please?”

Harry hates this juice. It’s some tart, store brand apple shite in a paper cup. He doesn’t want to drink it, but considering he hasn't eaten anything since lunchtime yesterday, reintroducing sugar to his system now is probably a good idea.

 

A shaking hand reaches out for the petite paper cup and gently takes it from the nurse’s hand. He gulps down the liquid in one big swig before giving her a nod, and she takes back the empty cup to promptly refill it.

 

“In case you want some more,” she smiles softly. “Biscuits are right here,” she points at the clear cellophane pack of shortbreads sitting on the narrow metal table beside Harry's oversize chair. She then places the paper cup next to the biscuits, and adjusts the chair for her patient.

 

“Thank you,” Harry mumbles even slower than normal, his head still swimming from the sedative he requested before undergoing the invasive procedure. He's been zoning out staring down at two long legs dangling precariously off the side of the chair. _Oh yeah, shit_ , he's suddenly aware that those are his legs, so he cautiously turns around and scoots backwards so his back is flush with the chair.

 

There's a painful deep ache in his abdomen, and his limbs feel like jelly. His head of messy chocolate brown curls rests comfortably on the cushioned headrest but the pleather seat is now making him sweat. He can feel the dampness seeping through the fabric of his thin t-shirt, and his pants are swampy thanks to the padded underwear he needs to wear for the rest of the day. Needless to say the boy is a certified hot mess.

 

He's lost in his thoughts again, absentmindedly rubbing figure eight patterns over the inside of his elbow where an IV needle was not 10 minutes ago. He watches as the nurse's head turns in his peripheral vision. He looks up at her, green eyes wide in anticipation. What is she going to say next? That he shouldn't be picking at the band aid? He’s not a child, he can do what he wants. She better not say a word because he could literally cry at the drop of a hat, which is exactly why he needs to be away from people right now.

 

Her mouth opens and closes several times, but nothing comes out. She looks a bit embarrassed now, having admitted earlier that she likes the young man, but never wants to see him in here again. Twice in six months is enough.

 

He looks passed her at the blank beige wall, trying to blink back tears. "It’s alright,” he sighs quietly, managing a smile that doesn't reach his eyes. “I’m alright.”

 

She doesn’t look convinced, so Harry picks up the packet of biscuits. ““I’ll eat ‘em this time, I promise.” She finally smiles back when he tears open the packet and pops a biscuit in his mouth. They taste good, but he's not at all hungry.

 

He's beyond relieved when the nurse gets back to her duties by tending to the young woman sitting three chairs away. He can hear her light sobs, but tries his best to ignore them, and there's another even younger looking girl across the room sleeping peacefully in her chair.

 

Oh how much Harry would love to sleep right now. A few minutes later, more people shuffle into the room from behind the row of chairs, but soon the light commotion dissipates, and he's back in Holmes Chapel...

 

_It's a Sunday afternoon and his mum is cooking a roast. His childhood home smells delicious. His sister, Gemma, is home for the weekend, and everyone is enjoying their time together. There's snow outside, but it's warm inside. Harry has on his favorite oversized sweater- the one that only Anne can get snuggly soft in the wash, every time without fail. He looks out the window at the falling snow, he wants to go play in it. After convincing Gemma to join him in the garden, they stare up at the sky, catching snowflakes on their tongues until their noses turn pink and go numb, and all Harry can see around him is a calming whirlwind of white._

 

 

 

**~ ● ~**

 

 

 

Twenty minutes have passed, and the nurse comes back over to tell Harry he can leave if he's feeling ready. After all the emotional and physical stress of today, his body must have given in to sleep. The last time he was here, he couldn't stop crying long enough to eat or sleep.

 

Rubbing the tiredness from his eyes, he thanks the kind nurse once more on the way out of the recovery room. Still a bit off-balance, and feeling like his insides are falling out, the boy takes tiny, careful steps towards a familiar set of large wooden double doors with no windows. One step closer to home.

 

The cool air of the waiting area hits Harry’s skin like ice water, instantly making him shiver. Great, now he has to pee! He’s not looking forward to it.

 

The burgundy velvet rope separating all incoming and outgoing traffic makes the place look more like a tacky nightclub than a clinic, yet he runs several trembling fingers over the fuzzy fabric anyway just to keep grounded. There may be tears on his face, he really can't tell anymore.

 

“Over here, love,” a bubbly middle-aged woman waves Harry over cheerfully from behind the desk.

 

“Hi,” Harry mumbles into the fingertips nervously picking at his bottom lip. He steps up to the desk and leans over a display of STD pamphlets so he can whisper.

 

“Did…” he scans the room with narrowed eyes. There are no windows in the room, and only four other people are in seats either waiting to be called in to the exam rooms or waiting for someone to come out. Harry doesn’t see his boyfriend anywhere.

 

“Did my boyfriend step out do you know?” He still hasn’t made eye contact with the woman whose name he remembers now is Beth; she made exiting here a couple months ago a little less depressing. He'll never forget that day. Casually, he pretends to scratch his nose while brushing an index finger across both cheeks. Thank god they are dry, because he has been told he cries too much, and if his boyfriend saw him crying again...

 

“I’m not sure, love,” genuine sadness comes through in her voice, which Harry feels bad for causing. “I just got here about twenty minutes ago. Could he be outside?”

 

Harry thinks for a moment. Yes, his boyfriend could be right outside.

 

“I’ll wait.” He shrugs at her before taking a seat in the nearly empty waiting area. His boyfriend will be back. After all, he knows Harry cannot drive right now and he can't take public transport by himself. His boyfriend _knows_ this. He will be right back.

 

Maybe he went to the convenience store across the street, or had to go outside to take a phone call? Or maybe, _just maybe_ , he went to get Harry something special to cheer him up; to remind him that he is loved and safe. Sure, that could happen. He will be right back.

 

Any minute now, Harry can feel it. He can also feel his bladder about to burst, but doesn’t want to miss his boyfriend when he returns. No, he should stay put and wait. He's also afraid of sitting down again. He has been so looking forward to reclining comfortably in the passenger seat of his boyfriend's car on the ride home.

 

Harry sends him a text every ten minutes, asking where he is, reminding him that it's time to go home. After an hour and fifteen minutes, Harry is desperate to pee, he's cold, and should really lay down. He's also starving yet nauseated at the same time. His boyfriend has yet to respond to any of his texts or calls. If he tries hard enough, Harry can forget anything; he can make himself forget about today, about the past six months, about how good life used to be. He can't do any of that, though if he's still in the damn waiting room.

 

“ _Sam…!_ ” Harry whines quietly, staring at the black screen in desperation.

 

“Dear, would you like to call someone? You can use our phone if your mobile doesn’t work in here.”

 

The woman’s words gives Harry an idea. He stands up slowly, feeling the hard press of a full bladder on his swollen insides. He should really piss before he does what he's about to do, but what’s a few more minutes?

 

“My boyfriend is outside,” he approaches the desk and looks the kind woman square in the eyes, “apparently his phone is dead, but he is here.”

 

He watches Beth's face intently, waiting for her to twitch. “May I please go out and get him? You can hold on to my phone until we come back.”

 

She looks skeptical, but after a few seconds she resigns and puts out a hand to take Harry’s cell phone.

 

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” he whisper-yells gratefully heading for the exit. It’s another set of double doors leading out into an even bigger lobby area. It's colder than the waiting room and the scuffing noise of Harry's shoes echoes loudly off the marble walls.

 

There is a security guard standing at a metal detector, who gives the young man a polite nod as he power walks through the lobby and out the front door.

 

Harry stops immediately when the fresh air hits him. He’s feeling dizzy again, but he can't stop now. He tries hard to ignore the cramps in his pelvis, spinning around on the sidewalk frantically searching for someone, anyone, who can help him get out of here.

 

He quickly decides that if he can't find anyone within five minutes, he'll run. He doesn't need his phone anyway. It's not even his phone, and he can only to use it to communicate with his boyfriend and occasionally his mum.

 

“Woah, you ‘right there, mate?” A cheery Irish accent hits his ears, “you’re falling over!” Suddenly Harry is being held up by two strong hands. His knees are weak and this kind stranger is keeping him upright.

 

Harry's wide green eyes follow a pale hand up a denim-clad arm attached to the shoulder of a clean-shaven young man with bleach-blonde hair, and deep cerulean eyes. He looks to be around Harry’s age, give or take a couple years. For the moment, he dubs the boy Blondie.

 

“Sorry,” Harry says while sucking in a shaky breath. He’s so nervous and embarrassed, but he has to do this, he has to try.

 

“S’alright, no harm done.”

 

Harry observes Blondie before continuing with his request; the boy has a brightness in his eyes which tells Harry that he may be someone he can trust for a while.

 

“Can you help me? Please!?” Harry gasps. He didn't mean to sound so vague and needy, he’s probably scared the guy now.

 

“I’ll try,” the Irish boy says with a smile, politely squeezing Harry’s right shoulder as they both stand up straight. Harry accidentally stretches too much, and instantly doubles over in pain. “Ow!”

 

“Holy shit, you OK?” The blonde boy asks with great concern in his voice. All he gets is a nod from Harry, who tries straightening up once more with extreme caution. “Are you hurt? What happened?”

 

Ignoring the boy’s questions, Harry points over his shoulder at the building but the other boy's gaze doesn't leave his paling face.

 

“Can you please sign me out of here so I can go home? They won't let me leave without someone’s help. S’dangerous.” He makes air quotes around the word “dangerous”, silently praying Blondie understands so he won't have to elaborate.

 

Blondie’s face scrunched in confusion. “Where? What?”

 

All of this movement and stress is making Harry panic; he's short of breath and really should have brought his inhaler today.

 

“Just walk in there with me, tell ‘em you’ll be taking me home, and then that’s it really. If the nurse says anything about you being my boyfriend, just go with it, please? They're closing soon, so there's like no one in there…if you're worried about...being seen…” His sentence fades out as he can tell the gears are working double-time in Blondie’s brain; smoke might as well be coming out his ears. He's obviously trying to figure out why this random sweaty stranger really needs help. Is he trying to escape a mental institution?

 

When Harry's shoulders slump, Blondie finally looks passed his windswept curls to read the large sign hanging above the front entrance of the brick building. He squints up at the sign and blinks twice. “Oh,” then looks Harry in the eye, “Oh!”

 

When his wide eyes dart to the pavement, Harry instantly feels rejected. He wants to apologize for even asking but if he opens his mouth, he'll surely vomit; hormones causing his stomach juices to gurgle angrily. Then suddenly Blondie’s head pops up, making Harry flinch, eyes closed tight.

 

“Yeah, uh yes, of course.” Blondie nods a few times, ”Yeah! Let’s do it,” his voice becoming more encouraging with every word. “I’m Niall,” he sticks his hand out for Harry to take.

 

Harry can't believe this is happening! He peels open his eyes and takes Niall’s hand anyway. “Harry. I'm Harry.” His vision is blurring with tears for how grateful he is in this moment, for this angel.

 

“Hi, Harry. Let’s get you home.”

 

 

**~ ● ~**

 

 

 

“I can’t thank you enough, Niall. I really can’t. It’s probably no big deal to you, but this is huge. Thank you.” Harry walks out of the convenience store bathroom and meets Niall who has been waiting for him patiently by the cash machine. After two hours, the poor boy finally got to pee and empty his churning stomach.

 

“You’re very welcome, Harry. Seriously though, this was important. I couldn’t _not_ help. Ya know, I should be thanking _you_ really.” He catches Harry’s confused look, “considering if you never came outside when you did, I would still be out there wandering ‘round like a nutter with a napkin.” He holds up a worn white paper napkin Harry sees for a half a second. It has dark blue ink scribbles on it and what looks to be arrows.

 

“Yeah, why were you-? Oh no!” Harry scrubs his face with an open palm, “did I make you miss an appointment or something? M’so sorry, Niall.”

 

Niall is slightly alarmed by how quickly and easily Harry frets, everything seems to be a trigger. The poor boy nearly had a panic attack when he accidentally knocked Niall off the curb before crossing the road. You would have thought he shot Niall in the chest, it was intense to say the least. Afterwards, Harry apologized profusely (again) and insisted he leave Niall alone before he does anymore damage. Niall shot that idea down faster than a pint of Guinness, and now they are perusing the snacks and candies together.

 

When Niall tried asking about what happened today, Harry said very little. Just that his boyfriend hasn't been very nice lately, and his disappearance was probably his way of breaking things off. Harry is probably never going to hear from him again. Niall didn't press his new friend any more as he could tell Harry didn't even know what really happened today.

 

“Oh no no, Curly, nothing like that, don’t worry.” Niall picks up a bag of crisps, holding them out for Harry to take.

 

The curly boy shakes his head no, he can't stomach any food right now, he's passed it. He grins at the nickname Niall has given him, it's kind of nice.

 

“You're going to be hungry later,” Niall insists, pushing more bags of assorted snacks into Harry's arms.

 

Niall pays for everything despite Harry's verbal protest, and they exit the store with a bottled water each and two large bags of snacks for later.

 

“I was actually trying to find a flat,” Niall resumes their conversation out in front if the shop. “Well, one that's for rent. Been thinking about moving off campus and maybe sharing with a roommate or two. I’ve never liked student housing honestly. Everyone gets to know your business real quick and shit, and only got one year left. One of me good mates told me a decent place downtown that's gonna be available soon, but his napkin map is absolute shite.

 

He sees Harry looking down the road, eyes squinting as if searching the horizon for someone or something. “I think it was meant to be that we met today, Harry.”

 

The boy checks his phone quickly then turns it off and slides it back into his pocket, not saying a word.

 

Niall taps his fingers on the smooth stone building and tries again. “Hey, do you live on campus? If so, we can take the bus back together. I've got a few pounds change on me.”

 

Harry is staring off in the distance again, arms snaking their way around his slender frame. He clears his throat quietly while tucking a loose curl behind his ear. He's been listening, but he is really confused, and needs to lay down. He'll need a bathroom again soon as well.

 

“No, I….I don’t live in the dorms.”

 

Niall looks up from his phone on which he was checking the current time.

 

“Oh?” He takes a few steps toward the opposite direction. They have literally three minutes to get to the station if they want to catch the next bus. He motions for Harry to come with, so the taller boy hugs himself a bit tighter and walks in sync with Niall down to the station. They get there just as the bus rolls to a stop with a second left to toss their empty bottles in the bin.

 

“So no dorm then?” Niall restates his question in hopes of getting a better response. He tries to stay close so neither of them have to yell, and keeps a hand on Harry at all times as the boy leads the way to the back of the bus.

 

These protective instincts are different, Niall thinks he kind of likes it, now he has a sense of purpose. Whether it's just tonight or more, if he can help Harry in any way, he will.

 

“I bold-faced lied to my mum, she still thinks I'm at school.” Harry answers but doesn’t really feel like talking about it, especially in public. At least he has someone making sure he doesn’t black out, fall, and hit his head.

 

“Oh, so you're living off-campus now. Fancy!”

 

“No, Niall,” Harry huffs quite agitated, “I don't _go there_ anymore.” His head falls, eyes squeezed shut to prevent whatever tears are left from overflowing. He’s cried too much today and is hating himself for it. He’s mentally scolding himself for being too emotional when all of a sudden a passenger’s perfume causes him to have a sneezing fit.

 

When he opens his eyes, thick teardrops race down his cherub cheeks. He’s attempting to hide his face behind Niall’s shoulder, praying the green hood of the boy’s jacket will keep his wet and snotty face hidden from everyone on the overcrowded bus.

 

“You gonna be OK, Curly?”

 

No one batted an eyelid during the sneezing but he really should have held it in, because his entire body had contracted causing his muscles to involuntarily push. Now his bum is completely soaked.

 

“Yeah,” Harry whines, squeezing his eyes shut tight. He shifts his weight from foot to foot, feeling more wetness seep out into the padded underwear. “I dunno.”

 

“Well that’s not very convincing. What’s up?” Niall looks his new friend over, concerned. Harry’s not looking so well.

 

“I need to sit down,” Harry whispers as close to Niall’s ear as possible. They’ve been standing up, holding onto the metal handrails during the ride across the city. “It hurts.”

 

Niall’s head whips around so fast his neck nearly snaps. He isn't sure what **_it_** is, but Harry shouldn't be hurting anywhere!

 

He is about to cry because this boy apparently needs help in more ways than one. All the seats are occupied, and no one looks approachable enough to beg for their spot. It's times like these Niall wishes he had a car. He hopes he can at least keep Harry safe and offer some comfort until they get to wherever they're going.

 

Harry’s hand is gripping and twisting the bottom hem of his jacket, so he wraps one arm around Harry's waist to hold the boy steady. Niall feels his body shaking, a sign the curly-haired boy is legit crying. He is trying to make himself smaller in the space he occupies, clutching the shopping bags and Niall's jacket, and it breaks Niall’s heart. He's decided they will get off at the next stop, the one closest to campus. From there they can go to his dorm or he can make some calls to get Harry whenever he needs to go.

 

“Sorry, we're almost there.” He presses Harry tight against his side, “just a bit longer, babe. It's gonna be OK.”

 

By the time they get to their stop, Harry’s crying has subsided, and he is actually laughing at the ridiculous rap Niall made up last night to remember the bus schedule.

 

Harry’s bum is definitely wet and cold but he doesn't dare tell Niall he's bleeding, because his friend will surely think he is a disgusting freak. Not everyone is accepting of men having babies, never mind carriers’ right to choose, even in this day and age. Its sad, but true.

 

Harry got a pamphlet to the face and some nasty words shouted at him on the way into the clinic this morning, so he definitely knows how certain people feel about what he is and what he's done. Even though Niall has helped him thus far, he's still not entirely sure the Irishman knows or understands what he just went through. He can't ignore how nice Niall has been though, and totally non-judgmental, even when Harry is trailing behind like a zombie with a load in its pants.

 

“So, Harry, where to?” Niall asks as they walk away from a thick plume of bus exhaust. The sun is setting and he notes that Harry is only wearing a t-shirt and thin joggers. The boy must be freezing!

 

“Please,” He quickly takes off his denim jacket and plops it atop Harry's hunched shoulders. “I got me hoodie,” the points to the green hood Harry accidentally snotted all over on the bus.

 

“Thanks, Ni,” Harry smiles again, looking up at his new friend with glossy eyes. In the dim street lights they look darker than before, but that could just be his pupils adjusting as the sun sets.

 

“So your place?” Niall asks, nonchalantly kicking a stone down the pavement a good twenty feet. “Or you can stay at mine, if you'd like. I don't have any girls coming over,” he chuckles, nudging Harry's arm playfully.

 

Harry's ears perk up. This guy will actually let him sleep in his room? Seriously?

 

Harry doesn't deserve this good fortune, but he knows he can't go back home to his boyfriend, or ex-boyfriend, he isn't even sure what they are, if they were ever in a real relationship. He hasn't been sure for a long time. He wraps the denim jacket tighter around his stomach, chewing furiously on his bottom lip.

 

“Why can't you go home?”

 

Oh shit. He's been talking out loud.

 

“Well, it's...it's a long story,” Harry admits sadly. “I mean I could go there, but I'm probably not welcome. Otherwise I would have been there already...like three hours ago.” He sighs heavily when Niall just stares at him confused. Does he really have to explain everything?

 

“He walked out while I was getting an abortion. If he couldn't stick around for that, he's obviously done. He's not...he's not good for me. At all. I just don't get why he let me go...I mean, he's never left me alone anywhere.”

 

Niall, so overwhelmed by all the recent information has taken seat on a nearby bench, listening intently to every word Harry is saying. He’s admittedly a bit uneasy hearing such personal information from a stranger, however, this is the most the boy has talked so far. Niall urges Harry to sit with him and continue talking.

 

“Well....Ugh, I've never told anyone this. S’not good,” Harry rambles while lowering himself down on the metal bench awkwardly. “And if he found out I told....” he stops talking when his underwear squishes and makes him cringe. This is so gross.

 

On one hand Niall wants to tell Harry that he doesn't have to share anything if he's not comfortable, but on the other he wants to know everything so he can better help the boy. He nods again, reassuring Harry that he's here to listen and not judge.

 

“OK, so, a few months into...well, us being together, he found out I am a carrier, and he...he, I mean, he was always a dickhead but I was too naive and stubborn to admit it.”

 

“Did he force you to...?” Niall grimaces and points at Harry's stomach, his own intestines churning at the thought.

 

“No!” Harry shakes his head profusely, “the decision was 100% mutual. There's absolutely no way I could've had that thing. No.fucking.way.” The _thing_ was a mistake of the highest degree. Harry sighs, remembering that he and his boyfriend had actually agreed on something.

 

Niall’s eyes meet Harry’s for the first time since they sat down and they look sad, which Harry feels bad for since he's not explaining himself very well. He decides to elaborate despite the fear surging through his body.

 

“Things got weird really fast. M’not proud of doing this twice. He got me into some really sick stuff…” He shutters and chuckles darkly at the memory. “It got way out of control, and I don't remember much, and been freaking out ever since.” He's breathing heavily, anger rising. “I, I don't even....I'm only eighteen...God they are all so fucking _stupid_!”

 

Harry flails his arms, exasperated. He jams his hands back into the jacket pockets of Niall's jacket with a helpless groan. “And now I'm here.”

 

“How ‘bout this!” Niall interjects, shaking Harry out of his dark thoughts, “we swing by, see if he’s in. You have a key on ya, right?”

 

Harry nods slowly even though he does not have a key to the flat, curious as to what Niall is suggesting.

 

“OK good. So if he’s not home, we run inside, grab your stuff, and bolt. Cool?”

 

Harry is conflicted, but quickly warming up to the idea of running away. “Y-yeah, I guess, but, but then what? What if he's home?” His bottom lip is red raw from biting it so much.

 

“You come back to mine either way.” He can tell Harry is not convinced, so he continues. “I don't have a roommate at the moment, he transferred out mid-semester, so it would just be the two of us.”

 

“I dunno.”

 

“Please? It’s safe, and warm, and there aren’t any creeps around. Mostly upperclassman who are unusually quiet now that I think about it.” He eyes Harry's posture and can tell the boy is slowly weakening. “And I can help you, like bring you food and fluff your pillows, and whatever else you need. I _want_ to, Harry.”

 

After pleading his case, and pulling some goofy faces, Niall wins. He is walking Harry around the block to his ex-boyfriend’s flat to collect as many of his personal items as possible. Then he is coming back to Niall’s dorm. Neither are sure for how long, but at least Harry has a friend and a safe place to stay for the night.

 

“You're sure you won’t run away?” Harry asks Niall for the twelfth time since they got to the building. The bench was just around the corner from Harry’s current residence, so on the walk they agreed that Niall will keep watch outside while Harry gathers his belongings.

 

Niall can see the fear in his new friend’s eyes. He’s kind of hurt that Harry would ever expect him to just run away and leave him like that, but after learning everything that has happened to the boy recently, Niall can understand the skepticism.

 

Without thinking, he stops dead in his tracks and grabs hold of Harry’s hand, bringing it close to his own chest.

 

“I promise you, Harry, I will not leave. I will be right here. Just holler if you need help carrying anything. You shouldn't be lifting heavy shit.” He searches the boy’s eyes for any doubt, but sees none. “I'll come a runnin’ for you if anyone pulls up.”

 

“OK, I can do this. His car isn't here...lights are off...” Harry mutters while reaching deep into a shrub outside the front entrance while Niall keeps his head on a swivel, just in case someone appears. Harry finds the spare key to the flat under a small rock at the base of the plant. Thank god it is still there considering it's been nearly a year since he hid it. Sure he got in trouble with his boyfriend for “losing” his key, but a small voice in the back of his mind told Harry to hide it, because his right to have one may be taken away someday.

 

“OK, I’m going in...I’ll be right back, I hope. We’ll see. I’ll just be few mi-”

 

“Seriously, less talkin’, more packin’. Go go go,” Niall shoos Harry off in the direction of the heavy locked door.

 

The building is not far from campus, they could walk to Niall's if they wanted to, but the older lad determines that a vehicle will be needed since they can't carry all of Harry’s belongings quite that far. By the time Harry returns less than ten minutes later, Niall has slid his phone back into his pocket and asks Harry where he left the rest of his stuff.

 

“This it? I thought there’d be loads more. Just taking what you can carry? I told you I can get the rest, I really don’t mind. You can bring whatever you want, Curly, bring everything!”

 

“No need, Ni, this is everything.”

 

Niall is about to laugh because Harry’s life cannot be this sad.

 

“Seriously? Two duffel bags and a lunchbox?”

 

Harry nods, eyes cast down at the pavement. “Two duffel bags and a lunchbox.”

 

 

 

**~ ● ~**

 

 

 

A car door slamming startles Harry out of his thoughts. He had his back to the road and didn't see the black car pull up without its headlights on.

 

“Hey, lads! Headed back to campus?”

 

Only his eyes move to look at Niall, who has a huge smile plastered on his face. Phew, it's someone Niall knows, and not Sam or one of his dealer friends here to kidnap them.

 

“Payno! Good to see ya, mate. Thanks again.”

 

Harry watches out of the corner of his eye as Niall greets Payno with a tight hug.

 

“No problem, Nialler, I was passing by this way anyway. Good timing.” The brunette pats Niall on the shoulder with a grin before turning his attention to Harry. “And who's this?”

 

It takes the nervous lad a few seconds to realize Niall’s friend is talking to him. With eyebrows raised, Harry turns fully to look at the newcomer.

 

By god, he's gorgeous! He has the softest, biggest brown eyes Harry has ever seen, and his whole demeanor is warm and inviting. If Payno is a friend of Niall's, then he must be a good guy... Niall doesn't seem the type to associate with pricks.

 

For the second time today, Harry clears his throat and introduces himself. “I'm, I'm Harry. Niall and I just met.” He glances over at Niall to see if that was an acceptable answer.

 

Niall smiles back and nods in agreement. “Harry, this is my good mate, Liam.”

 

“Hi, Harry, nice to meet you.” Liam’s big eyes sparkle with his words, making Harry’s heart flutter. If he weren't so miserable right now, he'd probably tell him so. It's as if Liam knows Harry does not want to be touched, he gives Harry a small wave from where he stands on the other side of Niall and just keeps on smiling.

 

When Niall catches Harry shifting from foot to foot, he speaks very quickly, “Harry's been through some right shit today, Li, so let's get back to mine.”

 

Liam loads Harry's bags into the boot of Liam’s car; Niall giving him a _don't ask_ look after raising an eyebrow at the minimal cargo.

 

“Sit up here with me,” Liam tells Harry while pushing the passenger seat back as far as it goes.

 

Niall purposely sits behind Liam so Harry can recline comfortably. He gives the weary boy a firm squeeze on the shoulder, reassuring Harry he's still there.

 

“Thank you,” Harry whispers as he settles into the seat with his lunchbox held close. It's nice and warm in Liam's car, and Harry could easily fall asleep like this.

 

They ride in comfortable silence, save for Liam occasionally asking Harry if he's too warm or cold, and a barely audible radio station playing songs Harry doesn't recognize.

 

Before long, they pull up outside of Niall’s building. The two boys help Harry once more with his bags, taking them up to Niall’s room, and making sure Harry doesn't need anything from anywhere before settling for the night. While Niall made up the empty bed in his room with fresh linens, Liam guided Harry to the shared bathrooms down the hall. He patiently waited while Harry took his time doing what he needed to do, and gave the boy an extra 10 minutes to himself.

 

“Thanks again, Liam,” Harry says quietly. They're standing in the hall just outside Niall’s door. “Sorry you had to meet me like this.”

 

His head hangs shamefully as he's painfully aware Niall may have told Liam why they are all here tonight.

 

“Harry,” Liam sighs, reaching out to touch Harry’s shaking hand. The younger boy flinches away, confusing him even more.

 

He's met with glassy, green eyes; they're stunning, but so incredibly sad. He wants to stay with Harry, but it's not his place. He is still a stranger, and so is this distraught young man.

 

“I hope we can be friends.”

 

Harry finally blinks and a tear rolls down his cheek. “Really?”

 

Liam musters a sad chuckle, “well yeah, mate.”

 

The boy in front of him is like a lost kitten with a broken paw. It pains him to leave Harry right now, and the need to be with the boy from this moment on frightens Liam more than it confuses him.

 

“Thanks,” Harry's voice is a little louder. He's looking Liam in the eyes this time and says with bit more confidence, “I'd like that.”

 

Harry's smiling now, and it makes Liam’s heart swell. He is drawn to this boy more and more by the minute; he's an intriguing mystery, and obviously there's something more hiding behind that tight-lipped smile. Before he can say anything more, Liam is engulfed in a pair of lanky arms. He leans into the touch, arms trapped. He slowly ducks his head down to rest his stubbled chin delicately on Harry's shoulder.

Harry can feel Liam’s hot breath on his neck, it feels so nice. Liam is warm, quiet, and solid, and so incredibly kind. Just as he thinks he could stay like this for a long while, a soothing voice wishing him a goodnight brings him hurtling back into reality.

 

“Goodnight, Harry. Get some sleep, for me, yeah?”

 

Liam isn't his. No one will ever want to give him what he needs. He has to let go, but he can't move.

 

 

 

**~ ● ~**

 

 

 

“There you are, Curly!” Niall shouts as Harry slips into the room. The Irishman gives Liam a wave goodnight before closing and locking the door behind Harry.

 

“Thought you two might have gotten lost.”

 

“No, Liam was just making sure I'm OK.”

 

Remember, Harry had only stayed in a dorm for a few months, so when he entered Niall’s room, he was expecting another small cubicle with crappy beds and a tiny window like his original room.

 

Needless to say he is pleasantly surprised to find that Niall’s room is quite large, and there is even a small kitchenette. A flame-less vanilla candle flickers on the desk against the wall, and there are two beds made up with matching comforter sets. Harry assumes the bed on the furnished side of the room is Niall’s, and he's confirmed to be correct when his host offers him the bed on the undecorated wall.

 

Harry watched as Niall bounced about the room rearranging this and that to make more space. All the while he reminds Harry he can help himself to anything in the mini fridge and their bags of snacks from earlier.

 

“Oh yeah, hey, here ya go,” Niall passes Harry a small white plastic bag.

 

“What's this?” Harry asks, grabbing the bag by the handle. It's not a bag from the convenience store, and he doesn't remember buying anything else today.

 

Inside is a bottle of painkillers, a bottle of vanilla shampoo, and a magnet of an adorable grey kitty tangled up in a mess of pink yarn with the caption **“Grrr, Mondays.** ”

 

“Liam went down to the store quick. Said he wanted you to smile before you fell asleep.." he smirks at Harry who is staring awestruck at the thoughtful gifts. "I’ll have to let him know your face nearly split in half.”

 

A rush of red spread across Harry's cheeks at Niall’s comment. Is he that obvious?

 

“He got the candle too,” Niall added on his way back to the kitchen.

 

Harry is stunned by the nice gesture. After all, Liam barely knows him and he's already buying him things just to make him feel good? It's sweet to think about, and Harry can't help but well up again. He wants Liam back...he felt so good, almost taking all the pain away.

 

Luckily Niall was busy pulling together the ingredients for cheese toasties, so he doesn't see Harry swiping the tears off his face with a corner of the blanket.

 

“You can take take a shower if you want. Liam showed you where they are?”

 

“Yeah, he did,” Harry nods, pulling one of his bags up onto the bed. “Do you, you don't mind if I go alone?”

 

Niall, who has been trying his best not to baby Harry too much this evening, simply turns to his friend and grins. “Course not, Curly. Go on, I'll be right here.”

 

Niall let Harry go to the showers by himself while he finishes preparing their hot snack. The younger boy returns in a fresh set of clothes, and he's walking a lot more comfortably.

 

He waits for Harry to take a bite of food and swallow two painkillers with water before he will do anything else.

 

Harry crawls into bed with the last bites of his cheese toastie, his hair is still damp from showering, but he enjoys the delicious clean smell as it air dries. Niall went off to shower and get ready for bed, leaving Harry alone with his thoughts.

 

It took him a few minutes to muster the courage to turn on his phone on again. Part of him isn't surprised to see no missed calls or new texts yet it's still disconcerting; where is Sam and why did he let him go?

 

Suddenly he thinks of his mum and then it hits him that without Sam, this phone won't be in service for much longer.

 

With haste, he texts his mum a quick hello and goodnight. He tells her that he will be getting a new phone soon, and he will visit as soon as he can. He turns the phone off for the final time, and stuffs it into the open duffel bag by his feet.

 

He takes in a shaky breath, all the emotions of the day settling heavily on his aching heart. He wills himself not to cry as he curls into a ball around one of the spare pillows. His body hurts so much, and he knows it's going to be like this for a few days at least.

 

Luckily, he falls asleep before Niall returns. And if he talks, and cries on and off in his sleep, his new friend doesn't need to say anything. Not yet.

 

 

 

**~ ● ~**

 

 

 

Liam arrives home sometime later, he hasn't been paying attention to the time. Before he can even breathe in a sigh of relief, an angry and familiar voice bellows across the flat.

 

“Oi! Your fookin’ phone broken!?”

 

Liam groans as he drags himself and his heavy backpack toward the lit-up living room. On his way, he drops two pizza boxes down on the kitchen counter. They were sitting in the backseat of his car for hours, now cold and not all that appetizing.

 

The living room is filled with smoke, making it hard to see more than a few feet in front of himself. His eyes are still stinging from all the oncoming headlights, and maybe there was some crying. Needless to say his tired eyes are having difficulty adjusting to the hazy brightness. His best friend is sat in their prized leather recliner. It is the one and only new piece of furniture in their modest two-bedroom flat. It's not that neither of them can afford nice things, they just prefer to save their money for things like clothes, holiday gifts and traveling expenses, concerts, video games, good food, and weed. So much fucking weed.

 

Louis accidentally broke their last chair when he thought it was a good idea to jump off the back of the sofa onto the raised footrest. Why did he do it? Oh, just to see what happens. So now when Louis is about to do something impulsive and stupid (hilarious or not), Liam is right there to mock and remind Louis about the teeth marks he made in the hardwood floor.

 

Louis’ arms are crossed tightly over his chest, cell phone sitting on his thigh, the screen lit. Liam can see their text thread is open, and there are a mix of at least a dozen snubbed out joints and cigarettes on the glass coffee table. Louis looked exhausted, eyes swollen, however, they widen quickly once Liam appears in full view.

 

Liam offers the Doncaster lad a sympathetic look as he plops down on the sofa across from him. “We have ashtrays."

 

“What is your problem!?” Louis snaps back at full volume.

 

“Ugh, I am right here,” Liam groans, rubbing at his temples with trembling fingers. It may be his best friend yelling at him that's making him want to cry, or a combination of that and worrying about Harry. Either way, he has to pull his shit together and push aside any feelings he has for the boy.

 

“Yeah! Four hours late! No text, no phone call. Seriously, mate, it better be broken or stolen.”

 

Liam takes takes a deep breath and clears his throat before speaking so his voice doesn’t crack. “I was already late leaving work, then I had to pick up dinner, which, thanks for ordering it's in the kitchen…” Louis rolls his eyes as Liam continues, “and then I had to take- I had to drive someone back to campus.”

 

“Fookin’ell-”

 

“Alright, look,” Liam interrupts, “I know we had plans, and I'm sorry.” Liam's eyes were closed, so he totally missed Louis flailing his arms in the air.

 

“You ditched me to hook up with student!? Probably a fucking freshman...”

 

Liam sighed again, a hand trailing through his gelled quiff, “No!” memories of the emotional evening on tortuous repeat in his mind. “I mean, I picked him up, and walked him to his room, but I couldn't just leave him…”

 

Louis just stares at him like he's a complete tit, shaking his head not wanting to accept a single word Liam is saying.

 

“Nevermind, it's all good now.” Liam ends his rambling with a lie, fearing Harry’s problems, which had somehow become _his_ problems, were far from over.

 

Louis nods as he gets up from his spot on the recliner, lips pressed tightly as he chews the inside of one cheek. He can't ignore the pain evident on Liam's face; sure he is angry, but not cruel.

 

Either his friend really is upset about something, or he is lying. After three years of being best friends, and living together for two, they had gotten to know each other very well. Sometimes it was scary just how well they knew each other. It was apparent something went down tonight, and Liam is definitely affected by it.

 

He joins Liam on the couch, pulling his legs up underneath his bum, giving his friend his undivided attention.

 

“So,” Louis smiles warmly, “is this guy a new friend? You gonna see him again?” His calm voice brings Liam out of his thoughts, he sounds sincere.

 

“Yes,” Liam blurts a little too hastily. He is eager to be see Harry again, sure. He wants to know how he is getting on, like any concerned friend would. He is Harry's friend now, right? Louis catches him in deep in thought once again, looking rather upset.

 

“Geeze, if you're this anxious...” Louis gets Liam's attention with a snort, “I mean, you picked him up. Don't need to be doing me any favors.”

 

“We're just friends, Lou!” He says a bit too loud. “I think we're friends.” He looks at Louis for the first time in several minutes and he has to smile; everyone loves Louis. “He'd like you too.”

 

“Who doesn't?” Louis snickers with a wink before sweeping the overgrown fringe from his eyes. “So, does he have a name?”

 

Liam wants to savor the moment as his mouth gets familiar with the word. “Harry.” He likes how it feels on his tongue. Louis doesn't notice the small smile grow bigger on Liam’s face as he says the boy's name. Nope, not at all.

 

“Hmm,” Louis hums nonchalantly, nodding to himself as he stands to return to the comfort of the recliner. It has been his command central all night; everything he could need is within reach, and if it's not, well he has that As Seen on TV extendo-arm grabber thing his mum gave him last Christmas because _oh hey Lou would love this...whatever it is._. Thanks, mum!

 

Either Liam likes this Harry guy, or his best friend was thinking of setting them up. He had told Liam countless times that he wants to do this on his own, and he doesn't need help getting dates. He just hasn't found the right guy to ask out yet, and work is always so busy and there is just no time for dating anyone right now.

 

Also, how exactly is he supposed to tell if a stranger is gay or not without asking them? He doesn't want to waste time online searching for love, nor can he afford another epic public failure. He almost got beaten to a pulp for flirting with a guy he could have sworn was giving off a all sorts of gay signals , but apparently not. Just another reason why Louis never tries...life is too short and he wants to live!

 

Soon enough they both agree their brains are officially done for the evening. It is time to collapse in bed and start over again in the morning. Liam apologizes again for not responding all evening before wishing Louis a goodnight. Louis assures him all is forgiven, giving him a toothy smile from his spot in the chair.

 

Liam gets to the doorway before realizing he still has something of Louis’ to return to him. “Lou,” he gets his friend's attention, and tosses him the expensive jacket. He needed something nice to wear to his job interview before work this morning. “Thanks again, mate.”

 

“Cheers.” Louis catches the jacket and settles back down in the recliner. He drapes the jacket over himself as the sound of Liam’s footsteps on the wood floor slowly fades. He wiggles into the warmth and sighs, it's one of his favorite articles of clothing.

 

The TV is switched on to one of the local news channels, but Louis isn't paying attention to the breaking news drug scandal story as he is far too distracted. There is an unfamiliar, yet pleasant scent filling his nostrils. His nose is buried in the soft fabric of his jacket, eyes squeezed shut in concentration. It isn't him, and isn't Liam. He can't figure out exactly what it is, but he likes it. He can't stop huffing the jacket, the scent diminishing by the second as if he is inhaling it all. Louis' head is a bit woozy from so much oxygen after filling his lungs with smoke for hours, yet he still chases the mysterious sweet scent. If this is what Harry smells like, he most definitely wants to meet him.

 

 

 

**~ ● ~**

 

 

 

_“C’mon, don't fall asleep now, babe, you're being so good. You like them watching, yeah? Like having your boypussy filled with their hot jizz? You gotta see it dripping out. Hey wait, don't pull out yet, mate. Where's a mirror? Someone get a mirror!"_

 

_“Jesus...how is he always this tight?”_

 

 

“Harry, Harry? HARRY, it's time to get up.”

 

When Harry’s eyes peel open, he's greeted with a mass of blonde hair mere inches from his face. It takes him a few seconds to remember where he is and who this crazy person is bouncing on his bed.

 

“Noooo.”

 

“Mornin’, sunshine!”

 

It's only Niall, thank god.

 

“Uugh. Is it Saturday?”

 

“Yes, actually. You've got me for the whole day.”

 

 _“Niall_...” Harry whines, burying himself deeper under the covers. It can't be later than 9am, and he's only slept for six or so hours within the past two days.

 

“Oh what fun times you and I will have!”

 

“If I get up now will you be quiet?”

 

“Not making any promises, but sure.”

 

Harry shoves off the blanket and swings his legs around to sit up slowly. He rubs at his lower abdomen, his muscles are still tender and sore, but thankfully his underwear is dry.

 

“Are you always so...so?”

 

“Amazing? Hungry? Irish? Oh c'mon, better get used to it,” he waves a finger between them, “Narry is _forever_.”

 

He grins madly with steepled fingers. Niall’s young face and quirked eyebrows make him look like a mischievous toddler, which causes Harry to shake with laughter.

 

“I don't even…” Harry’s cackling so much he can barely speak, “want to ask what a _Narry_ is." Harry hasn't laughed this hard in months and it feels phenomenal.

 

“Never mind,” Niall is laughing too, “just know that we're like best mates now. “

 

Harry rubs his eyes with the back if his hand and shakes his head with a fond smile. He could carry on laughing till he cries, but he's done with tears of any kind for a while.

 

“Dunno who's crazier... _you_ , or me for agreeing to such a life sentence.”

 

“You, Curly, definitely you.” Niall deadpans, patting his new best friend on the knee, ignoring the boy swatting at him playfully. “You're welcome.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for giving this labor of love a chonce!
> 
> And a special thanks to my dear husband, for being my personal sassy Brittchecker, and for all the support and encouragement.
> 
> Chapter updates will be as frequent as possible, most likely once a week to start off. Next chapter we learn more about Harry's ex-boyfriend and Louis as well. Will hopefully have some artwork in/for each chapter as well ☺
> 
> Questions? Concerns? Let me know. Kudos and comments are love. XxPv


	2. Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Harry looked on with worried eyes, too afraid to respond. He couldn't tell if this was bad news or **really really** bad news. He honestly thought he wouldn't be in a sexual relationship until he was much older and with someone who truly appreciated him and his rare gift. He hadn't thought at all about what to do in a situation like this._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, I'm not gonna beat around the bush here...the first two-thirds of this chapter are _painful_ AF (see warnings below). The rest is a real hoot, so...it's worth the hurt? My eyeballs are spinning today, and I just couldn't wait any longer to post, so please excuse any spelling/grammar mistakes, they'll be fixed asap. Enjoy!
> 
> *** Be aware that there are WARNINGS/TRIGGERS for this story, including but not limited to: panic attacks, physical domestic and verbal abuse, miscarriage, and reference to abortion and rape. Don't worry, it doesn't all happen at once. There may be more important warnings for future chapters, so **please always read the authors notes**. Thank you!

 

[ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/154354030@N07/45763773035/in/dateposted-public/)

 

Just yesterday, Harry was living with his boyfriend, Sam in an apartment not far from campus. The sun rose to shine brightly through the bedroom window, and once he remembered where he was and where he had to go, Harry knew it was about to be a long day.

 

The fifteen minute ride to the clinic was silent, save for the rumbling of the car engine and Harry's deep breathing. Sam still didn't say anything even when they got inside. When Harry struggled filling out the packet of medical forms because his hands were shaking so much, the older man didn't offer to help, he just sat there sighing every few minutes like he had better places to be.

 

When Harry's name was called, the nervous teen looked up into his boyfriend's eyes, searching for a tiny glimmer of hope, one little sign that Sam still cared about him in any way.

 

He couldn't find one.

 

 

~ ● ~

 

 

Back in November, on a chilly windless evening, Harry and his roommate were taking a shortcut through the park on their way to a party. That's where they approached a mysterious and incredibly attractive man selling weed to some other students by the toilets. The two friends figured it would be more fun to get stoned on the swings together, skip the party, and laugh their assess off well into the night. It was the weekend after all, and Zayn was never a fan of large gatherings...it was Harry who convinced him to leave their room at 10pm in the first place.

 

Despite their 16-year age difference, Sam took an instant shine to Harry. The innocent wide-eyed 17-year-old boy with luscious curls, pout lips and thick hips made even the straightest man's dick twitch with interest. The boy's friend, however, was more difficult to crack. He wasn't shy but observant, and chose his moments wisely. Sam respected that, he quite liked Zayn. He was a lot wiser than Harry though, and ultimately Sam knew the cocky raven-haired boy from Bradford was going to be a problem.

 

Zayn warned Harry to be cautious from then on, as it was only supposed to be a one-time thing...they were never going to see that guy again. Zayn insisted they could get weed somewhere else if they were ever that desperate, and most importantly, neither of them should be selling it. He felt like a broken record, reminding Harry that he has to think about school, and that he shouldn't just go with the first guy who looks his way because he's way too good for Sam (or anyone, really). Unsurprisingly, it didn't take much coercing for Harry to offer up his virgin ass to the charming older man only a week later.

 

“You did _wha’!?_ ”

 

“I, we, did it. Fucked. Twice.”

 

“ _Harry_ …” Zayn gasped, hiding his face behind the tattered textbook in his hands, thoroughly disappointed to see and hear his younger friend like this. “Please tell me he wore a condom.” He dared to peer over the top of the book, and was furious to see a blissed-out Harry sprawled out on his back on the other bed, staring off into space with a massive grin. He had to be on something, whether he knew it or not; Zayn had never seen his roommate so fucked up.

 

“ _Well_?”

 

“Well...hell...bell, bells, balls?” Harry giggled at his own nonsensical rambling and glanced at Zayn quick to see if he were laughing too; he had been making Sam laugh for hours, so of course it's because he's freaking hilarious!

 

Zayn rolled his eyes, lowering the book and turning to face his friend full-on. “Did.he.use.one? Honestly now.”

 

Harry’s gaze drifted to the ceiling then as if remembering something fondly, “Don't know, and kinda don't care….he, he said I’m _sooo gooood_ ,” he drawled as his body slid further off the edge of the bed. Harry's right arm and shoulder hung carelessly off the mattress, fingertips just brushing the wood floor. “S’goooood. Made him-”

 

“Sit up," Zayn order, his friend was not listening. 

 

“Made him come, Z…. **I** did that.”

 

“Move, Harry, you're gonna **fall**!” Zayn shouted, not giving one shit if Harry didn't like being scolded. “You're driving me crazy with this! Do you even know what you just did!?" He stood up then, sending a stack of lined paper and colored pencils tumbling to the floor. "Do you not get it!? He's slime, Harry, he's using you!" The veins in Zayn’s neck were bulging while his fists remained clenched at his sides. “You should never have come here... shoulda stayed home. You're still a fucking child!"

 

Zayn was positively shaking with anger; he had tried so hard to protect this boy since day one, and there he was getting it all thrown back in his face. If he had Harry's mother's number, he would have called her right then and told her to come get her son. Harry was book smart, enough to skip a level and enroll in university, but he was too naive to be out in the world on his own, too vulnerable. Somehow Harry convinced his mother he could handle it, but obviously not.

 

“What did you smoke today?" Zayn continues his interrogation, desperate to know exactly what happened in case he needs to call for help. "Did you _eat_ something or drink it? Oh fuck." Zayn brought both hands up to clamp down atop his head, exposing an array of colorful tattoos along his tan arms. "What did you do!?”

 

Zayn watched wide-eyed as Harry's head rolled to the side just enough to reveal half a tear-stained face and bright red quivering lips.

 

"Sssstop..stop."

 

 _“Harry,”_ Zayn exhaled a shaky breath he didn't know he was holding. “I'm sorry. I...I didn't mean to...”

 

“He loves me, Zayn.” Harry choked, too embarrassed to look his friend in the eye. “He loves me.”

 

It felt as good as it hurt, and Harry wanted more. Sam touched him where no one had before, made him feel important, and told Harry he was smart for his age. Due to no fault of his own, Harry grew up thinking he would never receive such kind words or love from anyone who got too close. His father made that clear by walking out on his family one stormy afternoon, all because his 2-year-old son wasn't _normal_. Harry was a freak who was just going to grow up to hate them for his 'defect'. Although they had only known for a few days, Des was certain he and his wife were going to keep arguing until their son was too old for the surgery and they'd never be a normal family. Anne didn't care about anyone's version of "normal", she was _never_ going to alter her baby in any way, because her miracle boy was perfect, womb and all.

 

If someone was going to love him, how could the boy say no? Sam filled the void, and was a master at giving Harry all the compliments he needed, and everything else Harry thought he needed. It was pretty surreal being in a physical relationship regardless of _something_  being amiss. He couldn't figure out exactly what it was, but something about Sam made him feel trapped; either Sam was very into him and just wanted to be together all the time, or Sam was super jealous of other guys, especially Zayn for some reason. Either way, young, foolish Harry was flattered beyond belief.

 

Before he could go to Zayn to tell him about these doubtful feelings, Sam somehow snuck into their room while both students were in class, and moved all of Harry's things into his place near campus. Harry thought it was kind of sweet at first, but there was one disturbing condition to their new arrangement: Harry was not to see any of his friends anymore, including Zayn. The devilish man made sure of that, in his own smooth way.

 

After settling into the nondescript building, Harry learned that Sam bought two neighboring units on the third floor, and had certain walls knocked down to create a large growing space for his marijuana plants. There was also a decent-sized kitchen, a living room, a bathroom and a small bedroom, which belonged to Harry. It housed a double mattress, a simple floor lamp, curtains, all of his books, and a stereo. It wasn't much, but it was Harry's home for nearly six months.

 

Sam had only slept there with Harry four or five nights a week, typically when there was business to conduct or both of them were needed to tend to the plants. Obviously, the guy had somewhere else to go, and probably someone else to sleep next to at night, but Harry tried to ignore that and focus on what they had together. Harry finally felt like a grownup with a real life boyfriend, and he didn't need school or any friends. Someone older and important needed him, and that was all that mattered.

 

Blinded by naivety, Harry did not realize that Sam's way of forcing him to stay was to reinforce that what Harry had with him was the best the boy was ever going to get; he should be happy and thankful. Harry was his boy and Sam needed him. _Someone needed him!_ This would shut Harry up for a while and force the boy to stay another day, another week.

 

They did have good times together, laughing at each others dumb jokes, drinking cheap wine in bed while watching shitty movies, or singing at the top of their lungs while weighing out ounces of bud for sale. You see, when Harry was happy, he was more compliant, easier to control and order around, doing this and that for Sam with a dopey love-sick grin on his face. Of course Sam was going to twist and manipulate Harry to make the boy believe the rest of the world was against him, when really he was falling hard and fast into an abusive relationship. At the end of the day, everything came down to sex and weed.

 

Harry quickly became responsible for tending the plants during the day and on the nights Sam wasn't there. The grow master lined the walls and floor of the grow room with reflective cloth, hung grow lights strategically from the ceiling, and even rigged a discreet ventilation system with timers and the lot, ideal for a home grow on the outskirts of town. It was a serious setup, and Sam was serious about business. Harry couldn't believe Sam had never been caught growing or selling; the tall brunette was just that smooth with _everything_. It started to annoy him how much his boyfriend got away with on a daily basis, either by chance or by force.

 

Within weeks of living together, a switch flipped in Sam, and he suddenly stopped treating Harry like a boyfriend, or even a friend/fuck buddy. He would storm in at the most random hours, startling Harry in bed or in the grow room, complaining about people owing them money or how Harry didn't do something right so then other people were pissed at him. The boy couldn't do anything right anymore, except spread his legs.

 

The insecure teen became a lackey, a weak little twink who should be grateful for all he has because he certainly couldn't do better if he tried. When it came to being physical, Sam would gladly fuck Harry, but they never made love. The poor boy did not know the difference between consensual sex and borderline rape. Harry was expected to give blowjobs, but Sam never reciprocate, and he was always calling Harry’s asshole a boypussy, which the teen found particularly insulting. 

The harsh words and Harry could handle, but being smacked was harder to ignore. Sam would smack his face every now and again, usually for talking back, and occasionally punch an arm or leg. Then after a few hours of cooling off, he’d hug Harry and apologize, promising to never to do it again. An " _I Love You"_ and "I _Need You"_ would make everything fine again for a while, but it wasn't love keeping Harry there any more, it was definitely fear.

 To maintain some semblance of pride, Harry took monitoring things in the grow room very seriously; he became good at it, that's for sure. It was his job to keep Sam in the know via text only, as he was not supposed to call his boyfriend during the day unless told otherwise.

 

The more Harry resisted any of Sam’s absurd rules, like not leaving the flat by himself or using the internet when Sam wasn't home, the more got taken away. Soon enough Harry couldn't leave the building by himself, and he wasn't allowed a key after he “lost” the first one. He ultimately stopped going to school all together since he missed so many classes, and business was picking up. Sam was using Harry for anything and everything he ever wanted for personal and monetary gain; he went as far as to include his friends and customers in on the action in recent weeks; pimping Harry out for blowjobs and occasionally letting his closest mates receive them for free, just because he could make Harry do it.

 

The worst part about this new life was not being able to tell his family about anything; his safety and their's were on the line if he ever did. Communication of any kind was tense and uncomfortable as it became increasingly difficult for Harry to come up with believable lies about a life he was no longer living. He was allowed to go home for holidays, birthdays, and when his mum said it was absolutely non-negotiable. Even though Harry could go home, Sam was never far away, staying in constant contact from a nearby hotel. Even in his mother’s home Sam still had control over Harry.

 

By the end of December, Anne had become rightfully suspicious. Her son was home, for the first time since school started, and he looked so worn out, thin and sad. She couldn't hold it in any longer. She broke down in tears in the middle of their awkward Christmas dinner.

 

“Harry, I just...why are you like this? What happened to my baby?” She sobbed into her festive holiday napkin for what felt like ages. She reluctantly expressed her fear, her son was depressed and may have a drug problem. She didn't understand why her sweet boy had become so distant and lied about the littlest things. He stopped calling every week like he promised, and when he's home he can't sit still or put down his phone.

 

“I'm just busy, mum,” he tried to look her in the eye, but seeing his mother cry was too much to handle. “School takes up a lot of my time...and I have _hobbies_...and new friends and stuff. That's all.” He would always tell her he's busy and things are going great. The stubborn side of him wanted to expel all his pent up frustration by telling her off for even thinking such a thing, yet he desperately needed her help more than anything in that moment.

 

Still, his mum couldn't find out about him dropping out of school because then he would _have_ to come home, she would come to the school and he wouldn't be there. She'd then learn about Sam, and their illegal grow room, and Harry knew what his boyfriend would do if he ever told anyone and got them in trouble. Harry was not a fool anymore, he came to realize that Sam didn't go everywhere with him because he actually enjoyed it. The guy could really hurt Harry and his family, especially since the drug dealer would already being going to prison for a very long time. Harry couldn't put the only two people he loves in that kind of danger. The fact Sam knew their names and address was bad enough.

 

“Are you sure? You're really doing ok at school? _Nothing_ is bothering you? You don't need to come home?”

 

Well, _**someone**_ was bothering him.

 

“ Yes! God, mum! If you don't believe me, I'll...I'll take a drug test right now.” Of fucking course he wanted to come home!

 

“You're such a bad liar, Harry, just stop!” Gemma yelled with disdain, slamming her empty mug down on the table, making both Harry and Anne jump in their seats. "Happy Christmas! Goodbye!” She shot her younger brother a final glare before storming up the stairs to her childhood bedroom.

 

Anne’s drug abuse accusation had cut through Harry's heart like a knife, yet it hurt more to watch his sister walk away like that. He wanted to break down and cry but he was a too shocked, she actually screamed at him, and with a kind of hate in her eyes. He would have expected something like that from his father, or Sam, but never his sister. Never. Sure he grew weed and smoked it sometimes, but he wasn't a coke head or a heroine addict. If they only knew what kind of 'drug problem' he had.

 

Their last family get-together in February was an incredibly uneasy one, but only Harry understood why. It was his birthday weekend, and they hadn't seen each other since Christmas. Anne wasn't even sure he was still coming since he never called her back, but she drove to the train station anyway full of hope, and was relieved to see her son already there waiting for her by their usual meeting spot. Harry couldn't get into the passenger seat fast enough. He was so close to telling his mum about **_everything_** , because what happened the night before had him seriously scared for his life...

 

Sam had been in a great mood when he came bounding into the flat with an armful of roses. To Harry’s astonishment, his boyfriend actually remembered his 18th birthday! The night started out wonderfully with Sam being soft and gentle with his words and touches. A couple hours and a few lines of cocaine later, the mood quickly changed.

 

“Feeling any older?”

 

“No. I feel...all I feel is like...my, my blood moving?"

 

“Uh OK,” Sam chuckled from the other side of the room, “that's a new one, Styles.”

 

When he came back over and sat across from Harry, the boy could feel possessive eyes scanning his naked body from head to toe. “H-how do _**you** _feel?” He asked a little louder as to not sound so freaked out, heart racing from the unfamiliar drug coursing through his veins.

 

“Like I want to wreck you.”

 

Soon enough the stronger man had Harry hanging over the third floor balcony; large hands wrapped tight around the boy's neck as he pounded ruthlessly into Harry’s unprepared hole. One leg had been purposely lifted up on the railing, it was the most uncomfortable position, and anyone walking or driving by would have see them. That was probably why Sam liked it.

 

A combination of fear, pain, lack of oxygen, and nearly being dropped on his head from three stories triggered Harry's first panic attack. Sam wasn't even looking at him anymore, so the helpless teen’s pleading eyes did nothing after his raspy voice gave out. He had no idea what was happening to his lungs because he should have been able to breathe, and his ass hurt so bad he was becoming numb to every sensation. He was going to die, he just knew it.

 

Before Sam could announce he was about to come, Harry’s arms buckled and his hands slipped out from beneath their sweaty legs. The next five seconds were in slow motion as all of Sam’s weight came crashing down, pinning Harry between his boyfriend’s chest and the rod iron railing. All he could do next was gasp desperately as the cold metal pressed more and more into his sternum, flaccid cock dangerously close to being crushed as well. When Sam bucked forward for the last time, Harry could feel the warmth erupt from the cock buried balls deep inside his abused hole. His eyes fluttered open to see an upside car park, and that was it. God only knows what happened to him during those forty-six minutes of unconsciousness. When he awoke on the sofa twisted up in a white sheet, Sam was already gone, undoubtedly until the morning.

 

Shortly after arriving in Holmes Chapel the next day, Harry decided he was ready to end the craziness once and for all, despite the fear. While he and his mum quietly sipped their tea in the kitchen, Harry took his time scribbling specific instructions on a piece of paper for Anne. She was going on about the neighbors for some reason, but all Harry could focus on was writing the note. _Stay quiet and do exactly as I say..._ she is to casually get up from the table, lock all the doors and windows on the first floor, and meet him in the upstairs bathroom (because it's the biggest room in the house with a lock on it). _Someone is watching us_ is where he ended the cryptic message, hoping his mum would just do as he requested, no questions asked. They shouldn’t speak another word until they are locked away, out of sight and ear shot in case Sam is spying on them and tracking his every move.

 

Unfortunately, Harry chickened out and ended up tossing the crumpled note into the blazing fireplace before heading back to “school” the next day. Sam would be there every time to pick Harry up around the corner from the train station where his mum dropped him off (with homemade baked goods and money for a ticket), and every time Harry wished he had to courage to get on the damn train and leave Sam behind.

 

 

As if things couldn't have gotten any worse, by the end of March, the shit really hit the fan.

 

“You're _what_?”

 

“Pregnant. I think.”

 

“You _think_?”

 

“That's what the test says.” Harry held out a positive home pregnancy test, hand trembling. “Please don't be mad.”

 

Sam shook his head profusely as he paced the kitchen. Normally he would be raging at such outrageous news, but to Harry's surprise, his boyfriend seemed oddly calm.

 

“I'm not mad, just....when you told me you were able to get...” he pointed at the stick Harry placed down gently on the coffee table. “I didn't think it would actually happen.” He shuts up long enough to take a breath and run a palm over his face with with a groan. “So, you're really knocked up then? Seriously? Wow."

 

Harry looked on with worried eyes, too afraid to respond. He couldn't tell if this was bad news or _really really_ bad news. He honestly thought he wouldn't be in a sexual relationship until he was much older and with someone who truly appreciated him and his rare gift. He hadn't thought at all about what to do in a situation like this.

 

“Blokes can get abortions, right?”

 

The blunt question threw Harry for a loop. He had to answer honestly, though, or else Sam would probably take care of it himself.

 

“Yeah, yes,” he recoils, taking a step back using an arm of the closest chair to keep steady. “But can we-”

 

“Good then,” Sam cut him off with a nod. “Just um, I dunno…” the older man’s pacing began to slow, and his face turned softer, much to Harry’s relief. “I guess don't worry about the plants for now? Just stay in bed until then.”

 

“O-OK?” Harry shrugged emotionless, mind reeling from what Sam was suggesting. An abortion? He was one of the rare few males in the UK born with the ability to naturally conceive and carry a child to term; his mum would be _furious_ her only son let this happen, and with Sam as the other father? She might as well disown him right now; he sure would.

 

“Harry?”

 

It had been weeks since Sam had called him by his first name, so instantly the boy was all-ears, and as hopeful as ever. “Yeah?”

 

“You can use the phone tomorrow morning to call whoever you need to um…” Sam gestured casually at Harry's abdomen, staring at the boy with wonder. Harry knew that look; Sam had dollar signs in his eyes.

 

Taking a chance, Harry stopped biting his lip and opened his mouth. “Can I…” Sam was staring back at him with those intense deep blue eyes. “Can I see my mum first?”

 

Sam let out a heavy sigh. “Definitely afterwards, alright?” He must have had a tiny shred of empathy left because he quickly approached the teary-eyed boy, wrapping his arms around him in a tight embrace. “I'll take you to see her, I promise.”

 

“Ok, thank you,” Harry smiled for the first time in literally days, enjoying the soft kisses being planted atop his messy curls. “I miss her. And she still thinks I'm at school, and if she knew I-”

 

“Shut up,” Sam chuckled into Harry’s temple, hands making their way down to knead the boy’s bum, “she's not going to find out about anything, OK? You're fine.”

 

Harry squirmed slightly in Sam's hold, trying his best to ignore those roaming hands and adjust to the strange sensations going on in his lower belly. Everything he has read and heard over the years told him to expect these kinds of things, but still, it was new and scary.

 

“Is anyone coming over tonight? I don't think I can do much...I, I might get sick.”

 

Sam nodded, squeezing Harry a little tighter. “Like throw up sick?”

 

“Yeah. Sorry.”

 

“Well,” Sam starting to rub Harry's back and it felt nice, almost comforting, “I could cancel, or reschedule.”

 

“Cancel please!” Harry whined, fearing that the evening’s activities would only be postponed until a later date, probably hours after he got this abortion, whenever that was going to be.

 

“Alright, Harry, alright. C’mon,” Sam released Harry from his arms and looked the boy over a few times. “Go rest and I'll bring you food when I get back.”

 

“Where are you going?”

 

“Out,” he stopped to brush the pad of a thumb over Harry's cheek with a smile, then leaned down to gently kiss the center of the boy's forehead. “Since we're canceling tonight, I should go take care of a few things in town.” He caught Harry frowning and heaved another heavy sigh. “You know I'll be back. Go rest, I need you.”

 

He needed Harry. OK. “You do?”

 

“Of course I do, babe,” Sam cooed in that smooth voice that never failed to make Harry's knees weak. “And you need me too, so go rest and I'll order us something good. We'll eat in bed.”

 

Not wanting to upset Sam’s good mood, Harry didn't ask for more hugs despite the intense need be held. Instead, he retreated to his bedroom, and sprawled out on the lumpy mattress, praying to whoever is listening to give him a way out before he meets the end of his rope.

 

 

Two months later in May (or yesterday), the teen found himself feeling lightheaded and nauseous as he tripped on a power cord in the grow room. He was watering the plants when he accidentally unplugged the timer for the lights that had to be on for eighteen consecutive hours every day. There were still five hours to go. Suddenly the whole room went pitch black, leaving Harry in the dark with eight flowering plants. The loud whirring of the ventilation fans was the only confirmation he was not dead.

 

Panicking, he tried desperately to feel around for the flashlight which was usually kept on top of an upside down bucket near the door. Of course it was not there when he needed it. Harry crawled out of the room on his hands and knees in search of a torch, and just as he stood upright, he heard the front door creak open. Sam arrived before he could correct his mistake, and time was up. The petrified lad stood in front of the door to the grow room, hands out in front of himself in defense. He could have thrown up right there on the carpet he was so scared.

 

“I'm sorry! I'm sorry! It was an accident, I swear!”

 

“What? What happened? Move!” Sam stomped toward him and pushed Harry out of the way to get into the room.

 

“The fuck!?”

 

“I'm sorry!”

 

“Goddammit, Styles! How long have they been off?”

 

“Only two minutes, I swear! Please!”

 

“Please, _what_? You're the one killing my plants!”

 

“I'm sorry!”

 

“Get in here.”

 

Harry gulped down his impending sobs and remained silent, slowly backing up towards the door. He could run..he didn't need shoes or a coat or anything at that point.

 

“Get in here, now!” Harry knew he had royally fucked up, and Sam was beyond pissed, more like positively furious.

 

Harry hesitantly entered the grow room, shaking like like a leaf. Sam was moving around hastily with a flashlight, which kept shining in Harry's eyes, momentarily blinding him.

 

“Take this,” Sam growled, shoving a power cord into Harry's stomach. “Plug it in behind you. Can you handle that, idiot?”

 

“Yes,” Harry said meekly, too focused on holding his tears at bay so he wouldn't get lambasted for crying again. He did what he was told, and by the light of the small torch, plugged the timer back in. Instantly, the room became illuminated in pure full-spectrum light.

 

“Fuckin’ hell,” Sam sighed as he inspected his precious plants. Everything looked fine to Harry, but he knew Sam would find something wrong and it would be all his fault.

 

“Sorry.” He didn't even mean to say it yet apparently his lips were so used to forming the word.

 

“You should be,” Sam hissed over his shoulder. “You have an extreme talent for fucking things up.”

 

“I didn't mean to-”

 

“Why are you still here?”

 

Harry's brow scrunched in confusion; did Sam mean why is he still in the grow room or why is he still in the apartment?

 

Before he could ask, Sam barked out his order. “Couch. Now.”

 

Harry’s eyes widened as far as they could go. Was Sam really going to make him do this? He was already feeling uncomfortable, tummy bloated. "D-do I have to?”

 

Sam's head whipped around, eyes glaring. “Seriously? Get on the fucking couch or else I'll let all of ‘em to fuck you again! For free.”

 

“W-what?”

 

Harry should have gone to the living room instead of asking questions. In a flash, Sam stood up from his crouching position by the plants and took three large steps to get up in Harry's face.

 

The boy flinched when hot breath ghosted his cheeks. Sam’s eyes were raging, and he was too close. The helpless boy was trapped between a wall and an extremely aggressive older man. Sam was taller, broader, and stronger, and he could easily lift Harry over his shoulder and throw him across the room. Harry could feel a panic attack coming on, horrible thoughts repeating over and over...he's trapped with a fucking monster who let these men rape him, and the baby was most likely some stranger’s? It was all too much to process.

 

With a palm to the side of Harry's face, Sam bounced Harry’s head against the wall; his skull knocking hard on the reflective sheet. It hurt like hell, but he didn't cry or even raise his arms, too shocked from the assault and too fearful of what would happen if he made a sound.

 

“You _are_ dumb,” Sam whispered with a smirk. He smacked Harry's head into the wall again, "you've got nice holes, slut, but that's about it."

 

The third time Harry’s head hit the wall, the impact rattled the light fixtures hanging from the ceiling, making their shadows dance playfully on the wall. Sam was sure to pull Harry's hair on the fourth and final push, making the boy yelp out in pain.

 

“Couch,” was all Sam said before releasing Harry's curls from his vice grip. “You fucking freak. I have no idea why they like you so much, one of 'em should just take you...for fucks sake, I'd sell you. Can't wait for this appointment tomorrow, never.happening.again.”

 

Harry didn't argue with that last bit because he too couldn't wait for it to be over. He was never supposed to get pregnant again, that was not supposed to ever happen. Why would Sam do that to him? To set him up and use him like that? Why were they all doing this to him? Without a word, he held his hands down at his sides while exiting the grow room. It wasn't until he had stripped down to his underwear and sat cross-legged on the couch did he rub at the bruises forming on the side of his head. His right temple was sore to the touch making him cringe. It wasn't long before there was knocking at the door and Sam came out of the grow room to welcome his guests.

 

Harry didn't even turn to see who was entering his home, he just remained seated there, perfectly still with his eyes fixed on the blank TV screen across the room. Ignoring the odd cramps in his belly became increasingly difficult the longer he sat still, yet it was far better than acknowledging the dozen strangers gathering around him in the crowded space. One of the men had the gall to swipe a spit-wet finger over Harry's left cheek as he strolled on by, making Harry literally throw up in his mouth.

 

“Right, have a seat, chill out, and if Cockslut over here can get you anything, just give us a shout.” He patted Harry on the shoulder and handed him an opened bottle of water.

 

Without looking up, Harry gulped half the bottle within seconds, washing down all the sick. Soon all noises sounded distorted, and the couch felt so good he wanted to spread out on it and feel the smooth fabric rub against his bare legs. When he opened his eyes again, he was on his back staring up at the white ceiling through sticky eyelashes, unable to move from the neck down. And that's all he remembers of the other night, really. Only the deep ache in his bum on the silent ride to clinic reminded him that all of the abuse was really happening and it was going to keep happening until he escaped.

 

And he did.

 

 

~ ● ~

 

 

Shortly after Harry “moved in” to Niall’s dorm room, the two friends got their own place off campus. It turns out the second-story flat Liam told Niall about, and drew that terrible napkin map for, was actually perfect for the pair.

 

They had been happily living together in the new space for nearly six months by the time things really started to pick up for Harry. The summer was difficult, as he did have to eventually return home and tell his mother about dropping out of school. One thing he was proud to share with her was his roommate and new friend, who Anne absolutely adored from the first moment they met. Harry left out any details related to Sam, and insisted that he just couldn't keep up with classes and was too stressed; he met Niall and ever since things have been going well, truthfully this time. He can always go back to Uni when he's ready, but for now, he'll stick with this life and see where it takes him. It can only get better.

 

Niall is starting his last year of uni and sill works part-time. Harry recently found a job working as a photographer and part-time administrator for a vacation rental agency. Despite being the youngest one on the team, and not having any prior professional photography experience (only doing it as a hobby), his boss had expressed how impressed he is with the newcomer. It's nothing like his old job at the bakery back home, but it's a challenge and he enjoys it.

 

Slowly but surely, Harry’s confidence in himself, and humanity, is returning. Niall’s fun-loving and nurturing personality makes him feel safe and happy; Liam’s kind heart and striking good looks has helped maintain a desire to pursue another emotional and physical relationship, someday.

 

 

~ ● ~

 

 

Harry examines the set of medium length press-on nails Niall spent the last 15 minutes painstakingly painting a glossy black to match Harry’s “sexy” black cat costume.

 

“So how long do these things last? Like 24 hours?”

 

“Ummm," Niall carefully twists the cap back on the nail polish bottle while reading the back of the plastic packaging. "Directions say guaranteed 7-10 day wear. Oh for fuck sake,” he facepalms.

 

Harry’s brow furrows, he's afraid to ask. "What?”

 

“We were supposed to use these sticky tabs, not the glue.” He risks a glance at Harry, who is now admiring his pretty nails and he looks genuinely happy. If his best friend is happy, Niall is happy.

 

“Well, it could be worse, Ni. At least they look good. Think I can manage a week like this.” The glitter top coat is still tacky, so he's careful not to snag them on his hair while adjusting the fuzzy black kitty ears atop his head. He originally bought a cheap set of cat costume accessories at the dollar store, but it was so cheap, the patchy fuzz began to shed before he even got back home. He was too proud to borrow a few quid to replace them, so Harry was determined to make do with what he had.

 

Niall, the observant friend that he is, got him an accessories upgrade this morning while in town. Liam’s flatmate, and best friend, Louis, works at the local party shop, and they always have the best selection of Halloween costumes and accessories. It didn't take him long to find exactly what Harry needed. Not only are these items of better quality, they suit the freakishly-feline boy perfectly. Instead of a tight headband, these new cat ears are hair clips which hold back the longer curls framing Harry’s face. In the bag were ears, a black velvet tail with satin loop (for his belt), clip-on kitty whiskers, a black satin collar, false nails, nail polish, black lipstick, and a black makeup pencil.

 

After coloring in a heart-shaped kitten nose with the makeup pencil, he slips on the whiskers; the small rubber “clip” pinches the inside of his nostrils enough to make him sneeze a few times. While Niall finishes getting his own Thor costume ready, Harry looks himself over more in the mirror. He may not feel very sexy, but he can agree he looks put together and healthy. He threw away a lot of clothes before moving as he wanted to shed a bit of his past and explore different styles. He still has a draw full of khakis and Polo shirts back at his mum’s house if he ever changes his mind and about this new look.

 

His long legs are clad in his best pair of skinny jeans, the black ones with a rip in the right knee that seems to be getting bigger with every wash. His favorite pair of Chelsea boots are on his feet, but finding a suitable top for this costume seems impossible. He could hear Niall’s eyes rolling every time he tossed another top in the reject pile. He finally settled on a sheer black button up with long sleeves. He buttons it up and takes another look in the mirror. Good god, this is awful. He can see all four nipples through this thing. Nope! No way, off off off. He whips off the shirt in record speed and tosses it onto the bed.

 

“Woah! Harry, where have you been hiding this bod?” Niall approaches from behind, poking repeatedly at the barely visible six pack under the boy's pale skin. “Been living with you for months and have never seen all...this!” He flails his arms at Harry, who punches the blonde boy in the bicep, the plastic hammer dropping to the floor between them.

 

Beyond embarrassed, Harry crosses his arms over his stomach and pouts in Niall’s direction. “Shut up. I don't have a bod. I still have baby fat, and stupid hair, and legs that don't get and along with the rest of me…” He continues to mutter angrily as he walks away from the mirror, “these clothes are stupid.”

 

“Harry. HARRY. Shut your face right now.”

 

“Ni-”

 

“Ah! It's not true, so don't say it.”

 

“I look like a manwhore in that shirt. I can't go to a party looking like that, Niall. I shouldn't have tried to change anything, this isn't me.”

 

“Yes, yes it is. This style couldn't be more you if...if...I dunno, it just is!” Niall picks up the abandoned shirt in question and walks over to Harry who is walking listlessly to the bedroom window. “Try it on again and I'll be honest with you. A non-biased opinion.”

 

“Huh?” Harry asks, genuinely confused.

 

“If you look like a mega slut, I'll say so, and you can wear something else.”

 

“Thanks,” Harry rolls his eyes. This is not going to end well for him. He knows he's going to have to wear that shirt to the party, and he'll somehow have to suck it up and get used to it.

 

With mean eyes locked on Niall’s smug face, Harry pulls the sheer shirt on once more, fastening every button all the way up to the neck. His cute kitty collar is now hidden under the fabric, but all he cares about are a bunch of strangers seeing his bare chest.

 

Niall swiftly reaches over to unbutton the top four buttons of Harry's blouse. The latter doesn't fight, he just looks on in the mirror feeling his carefully-reconstructed self confidence slowly degrading.

 

“There, perfect,” Niall gives him a pat on the shoulder and moves out of the way so Harry can get get a better look. “Right, so my official assessment?” he muses, pulling back with a hand still resting on Harry’s shoulder. “You look hot, but not like you're fishing for a gang bang.”

 

“Gross,” Harry groans, shooting his friend a disgusted glare.

 

“Ugh! You're killing me here, H! Wear something underneath then if you don't believe me and don't want to show off how fucking fit you are.”

 

“Ugh, alright! Alright!” Harry resigns while watching Niall leave the room in a huff.

 

Harry can't help but find every little detail that is wrong with his clothes, his hair, his makeup, everything. After taking a few deep breaths, he straightens his collar and goes to the kitchen.

 

“What time are people supposed to start showing up?” He asks Niall who has his head buried in the freezer.

 

He emerges with a bag of ice, undoubtedly for one of the large tubs of beer and sodas. “Soon, like any minute now. You nervous?”

 

“Not nervous, just...I dunno. I'll be more into it when I see everyone else in their costumes and stuff too. Right now I just feel like an idiot, ” he laughs a bit but Niall knows he is serious.

 

“C’mon, this will be fun! Won't be a huge crowd, but enough for a proper party. Aaaaand…” Harry looks up at him then with raised eyebrows. “Liam will be here,” he winks, not oblivious to how often Harry mentions their friend, not-so-subtly and way too often for him not notice Harry has the hots for their friend.

 

“I believe he's bringing his best mate as well. Nice bloke...loud, but hilarious.” Niall can't resist tacking on a hint of mockery, “Also single.” He winks/blinks spastically this time, like his eyeballs will roll right out of his head if stops.

 

Harry bursts out laughing, “Thanks, but I'd need to be really drunk to do anything with anyone tonight. Even Liam.” A hand slaps over his mouth so fast, a fake nail nearly pops off.

 

“You're bad,” Niall teases while playfully tugging the curls at the nape of Harry's neck. “So bad. My sweet boy is in love...”

 

They haven't see Liam much, as everyone is so busy with work and/or school. Liam has been trying to get into building management, but he is very particular about what company he works for, especially if there is no opportunity for advancement; he has “worked too hard, and has paid too much money” not use his uni degree. He has stopped by their flat once or twice a month to catch up with them over a quick bite, but that's it really. So sue him if Harry wanted to see more of their friend.

 

" _Anyway_ ,” Harry continued, “thanks again for doing this, Ni. It was was a great idea to throw a Halloween party. I love our flat, and I love living with you.”

 

“Love you too, bestie. Now go rip open some crisps and dip before your mascara runs. We've got a party to host!”

 

 

 

~●~

 

 

 

“Right...that probably won't feel very good. _How_ does that even work?” The fine creases in Louis’ forehead deepen as his eyes dart around the room looking at everything and anything but his best friend. They've been getting ready for a party at Liam’s friends’ place, and somehow got on the topic of Louis’ love life, yet again.

 

“Yeah it does, “ Liam insists. “You just have to...I don't know, Louis. You never tried it with a girlfriend?”

 

“Um. _No._ ”

 

“Oh.”

 

“Yeah.”

 

Liam sits down on the sofa next to the other lad, biting back his laughter the best he can while pretending to not see Louis fidget anxiously. He is behaving like a clueless virgin who has never watched porn in his life. They shared a laptop for a year, so Liam  _knows._

 

“ _Soooo_ ….” He leans in nice and slow, eyebrows raised curiously. He can't contain it anymore, watching Louis get all hot and bothered just thinking about the mechanics of it all is way too funny not to laugh. "... _rimjob._ " 

 

“Shuttup, Liam. Just shut up.”

 

 

~ ● ~

 

 

Before long, the Halloween party is kicking off, and the small apartment is filling quickly with guests. Most are select people from Niall’s classes, some from work. Harry hovered by the food in the kitchen for the first 20 minutes, comfortable with greeting folks as they came in, pouring them drinks and thanking them for coming.

 

Everyone has been complimenting Harry on his costume, so his confidence is slowly growing. When the incoming traffic slows, he takes his spiked punch over to the stereo. He gets talking with a girl he recognizes from one of his classes last semester. He explains he had dropped out to start his career, which isn't a total lie. He just left out the part about his then-boyfriend forcing him to essentially quit everything and drop all of his friends.

 

After two drinks, Harry is in a much better mood. He's blissfully sipping on a third cup of punch while craning his neck in all directions looking for Niall; he hasn't seen Liam arrive yet, and the party started well over an hour ago! As he takes a step back, he accidentally knocks into someone standing right behind him.

 

“Oops!” Harry blurts, drink sloshing all over his see-through blouse, and some also splashes on the stranger. _What a fucking idiot._

 

“Hi,” a soft voice carries into his ears over the loud music. Harry doesn't get a chance to see the guy’s face before he is pulled away through the crowd, but he does get a quick glimpse of something familiar.

 

 

~ ● ~

 

“Harry!” Louis hears his best friend, Liam shout above the boisterous commotion. They got separated shortly after arriving.

 

He stands on his tiptoes in attempt to see where his friend is at, and who this Harry guy is, but all Louis can see are the tops of people's heads he doesn't know. Didn't Liam say this was going to be a small party? He's never had to say excuse me so much in his life as he did while squeezing through this small room of strangers. He gets to the hallway and gasps for air. It was getting hot and claustrophobic in there, and he can feel beads of sweat rolling down into the white face paint covering his forehead. Every choice he made this evening has been wrong...why did he decided to wear this jacket? It's way too warm for October!

 

He looks around the unfamiliar space, and sees the shadows of more people gathered in the kitchen. Louis hasn't stopped anxiously fiddling with the straw in his drink since he saw boy-cat.

 

He isn't sure why he's nervous, because that cute kitty wouldn't want anything to do with him anyway. He's never even picked up a guy before. So, since he isn't even going to try anymore tonight, he can just stop being nervous. And he's not going to drink himself stupid and pretend he didn't just spend 10 minutes standing there a few feet away like some creep, mentally rehearsing what to say to the enticing boy-cat. Unfortunately, all his stupid mouth came out with when they collided was “Hi”. Seriously, Tomlinson!?

 

Louis’ self-deprecating is short-lived as he's met with another crowd in the kitchen.

 

“Liam! I missed you!” He hears a deep voice shout.

 

Liam is in here, good. Louis should really find him so he can at least introduce him to some people. It would be nice to have someone else he can talk to besides Niall. Louis freezes when he sees who his best friend is talking to.

 

“Sorry we couldn't have gotten together sooner.” He watches as Liam pulls boy-cat into a tight hug. **_What_**? “I've missed you too, H.”

 

 ** _Who_**?

 

Louis ignores the people trying to get around him in the tight space; he's already received an elbow to the kidney, yet he can't take his eyes off the two boys whispering to each other in front of the refrigerator. _No fookin’ way. He can't be the Harry. He's just so...he wouldn't....I mean? Liam?_

 

“Louis! Hey, come meet Harry.”

 

Great. Does he really want to meet Harry? What's he going to say? Hi!? Good god now they're staring at him. No wonder Liam talks about Harry all the time, he's absolutely gorgeous. Louis is about to pop a boner; Harry is wearing kitten whiskers, and his eyelashes are long, curled perfection. Sweet Jesus. Why isn't the floor swallowing Louis whole already?

 

“Hi.” _What a fucking idiot._

Louis learns that when Harry laughs, the rest of the world slows down; Liam is telling Harry a funny story about one of his and Louis’ crazy adventures, but Louis is zoned out staring at Harry’s face. He's mentally cataloging the shape of Harry’s eyes, his eyebrows, the creases at the bridge of his nose, the corners of his pouty mouth; the party around them might as well be a mile away because Louis could literally hear a pin drop.

 

Now he knows next to nothing about this boy, and yet Louis is enthralled by him. This vision, this beautiful boy who holds himself as though he has no idea just how amazing he is. It confuses and intrigues Louis to no end. Harry is cute, and sexy, and obviously likable. If Liam thinks he's a good guy, than he must be. Harry is definitely younger, for sure, and he's a few inches taller in those heeled boots. Those legs...

 

Harry must catch him licking his lips (something Louis has yet to control), because the boy is giggling again.

 

Suddenly Louis is brought out of his thoughts when a red cup appears in front of his face. He didn't even feel Harry raise his arm by the wrist to place the cup in his hand. He even made sure Louis’ fingers were gripping the plastic tight enough before letting go. His black nails gently scratching along the back of Louis’ fingers.

 

“Sorry, Lou, you kind of zoned out.”

 

Louis has never paid much attention to someone’s lips before, but he could honestly watch Harry’s glossy black lips say his name all.night.long.

 

“You have nice lips too,” Harry’s face splits into a toothy grin, cheeks flushed. “I'm drunk, sorry.” He shakes his head a little too much and one of his kitty ear hair clips falls out and lands on the floor.

 

“No-no do-don't be,” Louis stutters. “Me too. H-hold on.” He's tipsy at best, but he never fucking stutters. And he keeps thinking aloud! Bloody hell, this kitty is too much. When he realizes Liam has gone off to find some more familiar faces, Louis squats down and successfully retrieves Harry's hair clip. When he pops back up, the clip accidentally slips from his sweaty fingers and falls straight into his new drink.

 

Two sets of wide eyes immediately fall to Louis’ hand. He is not sure at all what to do or say next. He sees Harry's hand move towards his out of the corner of his eye, and without thought, he grasps the boy’s fingers. Does he give Harry the drink? Does he fish the clip out of with a straw? Does he just run away, drink and all? Goddammit Harry’s nails are too sexy, he's too much.

 

“Oops?” Harry giggles, and it's music to Louis’ ears.

 

They spent the next two hours standing there in the kitchen, not paying much attention to anything but each other.

 

Liam had come back once to say he was heading home to get some work done (of course), and told Louis to give him a call when he was ready to leave and he'll come pick him up. He nor Harry heard much of what Liam said, but they both smiled and nodded at him anyway, laughing afterwards about their friend's obsession with work.

 

“It's Halloooweeeeeen!” Harry shouts from his spot by the fridge, and everyone around them cheers. 

 

“You are too cute, Hazza, I like you.” Louis slurs, making Harry blush three shades of red, both from the compliment and the new nickname. 

 

Harry thinks he likes Louis too, everything about the man makes him smile. He's not at all like Sam, and he's a lot less uptight than Liam. Louis is fun, and exciting, and Harry needs to have some fun and excitement in his life. 

 

By the time Niall finds them, Louis has an arm around Harry’s shoulder and the younger boys eyes are sparkling. He has never seen his friend look so happy, then again he's never seen Harry drunk either. He'll assume it's a genuine happiness and not alcohol-induced euphoria.

 

“Hey you two,” He glides towards them and tries wiggling between the cozy pair to no avail.

 

“Niall! Hi!” Harry is so glad to see his friend, Louis was just telling him how he dropped out of school too, and Harry wanted to rub it in Niall’s face, all in jest of course.

 

“Oi, Irish!” Louis greets the blonde boy before Harry can continue. “Great party! Hazza here is quite the host.”

 

“Yeah,” Niall chuckles as he gives his best friend an impressed look, “H is the best.”

 

“Ni, can we do this all the time?”

 

“Do what, love? Louis asks casually before Niall can respond, topping off Harry's cup with the last drops of punch from the pitcher. Niall just looks back and forth between them with an _I knew it_ smirk.

 

“Have parties so you can come over, Lou!” At that moment, Harry knew he had fucked up. Niall is suddenly met with wide green eyes, and then they both look at Louis who is too busy catching the last of his drink with the tip of his tongue.

 

“Uh, can't do this everyday, buddy," Niall starts, "but the four of us can all-”

 

Once Louis realizes he's being stared at again, and actually processes what Harry just said, he lowers the cup from his face which has turned bright red under the white face paint.

 

“We, we can hang out, just us. You and me,” he gives Harry a squeeze where his hand still lays on the boy’s shoulder.”

 

Feeling like he has officially overstayed his welcome, Niall swiftly moves aside to let the other two sort out their impending date.

 

“Like a date?” Harry asks shyly. He's never been on in a proper date before.

 

Louis thinks for a moment, this could be his chance...or it could be a total disaster. He's about to ask a guy out and not just any guy, Harry.

 

If Harry says no, Louis isn't sure what he'll do. It's like this boy has a hold on his heart when only a few hours ago he was just a friend of a friend.

 

“Yes, Harry. A date.”

 

Maybe it's the alcohol, but Harry feels lightheaded and a bit stunned. He can't believe it...another man likes him enough to ask him out? Sure Louis was flirting all night, but he doesn't want to see him again does he? Louis is just a friend, like Liam.

 

Harry is taking a very long time to answer, and Louis is about to fake a laugh and say he was just kidding when suddenly he feels whiskers tickling the sweet spot below his ear and Harry’s strawberry breath fills his nostrils as the boy whispers softly.

 

“I'd like that.”

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *repents* omg I promise that's the last of torturing Harry for a while. Who is looking foward to more HL? Buckle up, cause here it comes. _Pun intended?_ Find out in Chapter 3 ☺.
> 
> Thank you to all who have read, left comments, kudos, subscribed and bookmarked. This story has been a therapy to write for many reasons, so for others to get something out of it too, well, it's amazing. Thank you!!!
> 
> Questions? Concerns? Let me know. Kudos and comments are love. XxPv


	3. The Day Off

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _You see, this isn't just any old regular day off. This is a special day, Louis has declared. It is to be dedicated entirely to pure laziness, and Harry’s sweet ass. The day has finally arrived and nothing is going to stop it from being the best day ever._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a long one, with a time jump and flashbacks _(italics)_. Like always, I'll be fixing errors while it's posted. Anyway, *cough*smut*cough* enjoy!
> 
> *** Be aware that there are WARNINGS/TRIGGERS for this story, including but not limited to: panic attacks, physical domestic and verbal abuse, miscarriage, and reference to abortion and rape. Don't worry, it doesn't all happen at once. There may be more important warnings for future chapters, so **please always read the authors notes**. Thank you!

 

 

 

 

_They had agreed to meet at 7pm one week from Halloween. Harry arrived at Louis’ doorstep at precisely 6:58pm Friday evening, and Louis was swooning all over again when the door opened. There stood a skinny jean and oversize sweater-wearing Harry; his curls were damp and clinging to his forehead under the knit grey beanie, and his eyes were big and bright, even larger than they were the last time Louis saw them. And here Louis thought he looked quite dashing in his black dress pants, white shirt and dark blue blazer but really Harry was the head-turner that night._

 

 

_“Everything alright?” Louis asked as they walked to Harry's car. The boy had been nodding in agreement but obviously not listening because Louis asked him twice which restaurant they were going to, and Harry had yet to answer._

 

 

_“Huh? Yeah, Stefano’s, ” Harry finally said as he unlocked the doors. They slid into their seats, and even though Harry was smiling, Louis could tell something wasn’t right. He has a habit of bit biting his lips, and when he's not drunk, Harry makes a lot less eye contact._

 

_“You seem distracted. Sure you're alright?” Louis wanted it to be clear he was not pressuring the younger man into anything, and that moment was the time to pull the ripcord, if Harry wanted._

 

_“Well,” Harry sighed, fiddling with the chunky silver ring on his index finger.  “ I've never actually been on a proper date before...we kinda skipped that part." He stopped himself mid-sigh and looked sheepishly at the older man. "I'm just really nervous. Sorry.”_

 

 

_“Oh,” Louis’ eyes widen at Harry's admission. OK, he could work with that, Harry wouldn’t know he had never been out on a real date either...not with another guy. “That's alright, Harry, please don't be nervous.”_

 

 

_Harry did tell him a little bit about his dating past while they were knocking back drinks at the party, like how he’s only been with one person and the guy was bad news. Harry put it into words the best: **“He’d  look soooooo stoooopid all stomp-stompin’ ‘round the place...being all like arrrrrg Styles gonna kill you! Arrrg! *hiccup* he’s such an ass, ugh so gross, what was I thinkin’, Lou? Seriously, he’s just a...a… *hiccup* big ol’  jerkdick with a small face. Ummm….Jerkface with a small dick, yeah that’s it! Hey, Lou, *hiccup* penis jokes.”**_

 

_“Easy for you to say.”_

 

_“Harry…” Louis scoffed quietly whilst turning slightly in his seat so Harry wouldn't see his eyes rolling. “You don't think I've been stressing out all week? Have you ever seen yourself?” He turned back to see Harry giggling, a genuine smile on his face that made Louis’ heart swell. “Honestly, you've been driving me crazy since that party,” he caught the boy's worried look and quickly added with a smile, “in the best way possible.”_

 

_“Why do you like me so much? Really.”_

 

 _Louis’ brow scrunched in confusion; did the boy seriously not understand? He_   _didn’t even need to think about how he felt, it came spilling out of his mouth the second Harry finished the question. “Geeze, Hazz...you're funny, considerate, really smart, like smarter than me and Liam put together on a good day..._ _” He had to look away again because Harry was staring at him with his mouth hanging open and his wide green orbs were staring into Louis' soul._ _“You're also a bit cheeky...sinfully gorgeous. You make me smile, just thinking about you. And, you make me feel good,  just sitting next to you. I've...I've never felt that before."_

 

_“Oh,” Harry said rather surprised. “Well thank you.”_

 

_“Don't need to thank me, Hazz.  It's the truth. I know I'm older, and you probably won't want to date me, but I'm grateful you gave me tonight.”_

 

 

 

**_~ - ~_ **

 

 

 

 

Now it’s 8AM on a sunny Spring morning and Louis’ bedroom is beginning to fill daylight seeping in through the slats of the mini blinds. He’s been awake since 7AM, anxious and excited to start the day, but also in no rush to move from the cozy cocoon of blankets. And yes, he did try falling back asleep. However, he ended up laying there for an hour, completely zoned out while squeezing his bell end; hypnotized by the white duvet rising and falling beside him in a steady rhythm.

 

Today is the day he's been looking forward to for weeks. It's been twenty excruciatingly long days (yes, he's counted) since he and his boyfriend, Harry, have had a whole day off to spend together. The past few weeks have comprised of random shared lunch breaks and quick runs to Tesco. They rarely have the same days off anymore, and it's starting to have an effect on their relationship. They miss having dinner together, staying up to the wee hours of the morning talking, laughing, and cuddling in bed until they can't stay awake any longer. He can't stop thinking about how amazing he has felt lately, how freeing it is to be with someone like Harry.

 

Unlike Liam, who has been open about his bisexuality since college, Louis purposely kept his sexuality underwraps. He went for girls all throughout school, and thought he was being so clever by always having a  _girlfriend_ who was never really a _girlfriend-_  no one would be the wiser. Eventually, a few classmates caught on to the 'beard' strategy, and they made life hell for him every chance they got. The confrontations and name-calling became so bad, it shook Louis' confidence to the core, and he was seriously frightened...he still has the scar from a jagged rock being thrown at his head when he was fifteen; so yeah, happy days.

 

He couldn’t be himself at school, or with his friends, and at home...well they wouldn't be too proud of having a poofter in the family now would they? He was the man of the family and needed to carry on the bloodline, the right way; something his birth father apparently gave up on before he even got to know his son. Also, Louis really did want to have children of his own someday. Besides, he could get it up for a woman, if he really really **really** tried. Sure he was always flamboyant and sassy, and enjoyed theatre and singing, and could easily pop a boner at the most inappropriate times...like when he was studying in the library with one of the fittest guys on the football team or everytime he ate dinner at his friend's house because his hot older brother would be there. None of that made him gay, though, absolutely not.

 

It wasn't until Louis went off to university and started working in the real world did he learn what “figuring yourself out” means (and how lying to yourself just makes everything worse). He’s only had two real girlfriends in his adult life, neither for very long, and he only slept with one of them. Those few times they were intimate, he would imagine someone else's face, someone else's hands, someone else's mouth; and they had a cock. There was no denying it anymore. Even Liam could see his friend was torturing himself and any woman he dated by pretending to be straight for the benefit of absolutely no one.

 

“ _You're only missing out_ ,” He would say every time Louis went out on another date with his _girlfriend_. It was annoying, but at least Liam cared. Thankfully, when Louis finally bit the bullet, he ended up meeting the most amazing human being ever. After two months of dating, on Harry's 19th birthday, the boy said "I love you" for the first time, making a light bulb go off in Louis' brain; He is in love too, with a man. He is in love with this beautiful, gentle, and goofy young man named Harry.

 

He gave up on having his own family, and making everyone else happy, and although he hasn't been honest with his mum about it, he has slowly become OK with that decision. It doesn't matter now if he and Harry are moving too fast or if they both have their own idiosyncrasies and pasts, because Louis already knows Harry is the only person he wants, needs, or could ever imagine loving in this way. He loves Harry, Harry loves him, and that's all he needs.

 

You see, this isn't just any old regular day off. This is a special day, Louis has declared. It is to be dedicated entirely to pure laziness, and Harry’s sweet ass. The day has finally arrived and nothing is going to stop it from being the best day ever. Louis loves moments like these, he lives for them, actually. Everything between he and Harry has been so perfect these six months, Louis has already thought about getting down on one knee to ask the boy to marry him. Sure he was drunk while looking at engagement rings online, but he _has_ thought about it. All he needs right now though, is to know they will wake up everyday together, and go to sleep every night just like he hopes they will tonight. Today could be the best day of his life, if Harry says yes to moving in.

 

“I'm horngry,” he finally announces into the eerie silence. Harry has stopped snoring, and he's done waiting, so he gives the swelling end of his prick one last tug before pulling his hand out of his pants. That's when a head of messy curls pokes out from under the wrinkly white duvet.

 

“Horngry?” Harry inquires, slowly rubbing the sleep from his eyes with the back of his hand. The room is bright, too bright, even for Louis whose eyes have had time to adjust.

 

“Horny _and_ hungry, babe,” Louis yawns. He could never get tired of seeing his boyfriend wake up like this, hair askew, and cheeks pink and puffy with imprints from the creased pillowcase. “Looking forward to a fry up, then being lazy as fook...all over you.” He reluctantly peels back the duvet, body slowly emerging from the intoxicating warmth. Goosebumps form along his bare arms and down his pyjama clad legs as the cool morning air hits his lightly tanned skin. Just as he reaches across himself to whip the rest of the blanket off Harry, the sleepy boy slaps his hand away with a grunt.

 

" _You're_ cooking? Do you not want your security deposit back?”

 

With an exaggerated eye roll, Louis smacks Harry’s covered bum. “I won't burn the flat down, you ungrateful slut.” He turns over swiftly to slide open the top drawer of the bedside table. It is crammed full of the most random crap, yet he knows where every item is without even needing to look.

 

“Excuse me?” Harry huffs as he does _exactly_ what Louis wants him to do, and  the light cotton covering is flung down to the foot of the bed. He has on a shocked face, and that's _all_ he has on. “I'm a what?” He tries to sound insulted, but Louis can tell he is thoroughly amused just by the volume of his voice.

 

After grabbing what he needs from the drawer, Louis turns around with a straight face. He doesn't acknowledge or joke about Harry’s morning wood, nor does he tell Harry he better prepare to be poked, soaked, and completely wrecked _._ Nope. Instead, he simply diverts his eyes up to the ceiling with a “ _hmph_ ”, and lays back down on the pillows to begin rolling a breakfast joint.  With Harry's wide eyes still on him, he brings the glue-end of a rolling paper up to his lips, sparing a quick side glance in Harry's direction. The boy is tranced-out watching his boyfriend's tongue slide teasingly slow over the edge of the almost translucent paper. For Louis, it is a momentary struggle fighting back a smirk.

 

“Hey, Lou,” Harry starts in a serious tone, propping himself up on an elbow so he is leaning over him, “I promise, cross my heart…”

 

Louis' hands still and he lets his eyes settle on the bridge of Harry's nose, although he is immediately distracted by the younger boy's sexy mouth.

 

“You can cook my _last_ meal, alright? I mean, I’d be dead anyway...” Harry punctuates his sarcastic sentiment by patting Louis’ forearm.

 

“Aww,” Louis grins madly and shouts in a deafening high-pitched tone while flipping Harry the bird. “You're so sweet, boyfriend!” He thinks Harry looks  like a scared baby frog from this angle. There's no doubt he is absolutely head-over-heels in love with this boy. Good god he _has_ to say yes. He catches it the moment Harry’s face splits into a toothy grin, dimples popped and green eyes sparkling. Knowing that he hasn't burst the boy's ear drums, Louis cracks up too. Feeling rather rambunctious, he shoves a cold hand under Harry’s armpit and tickles the sensitive skin until the boy can't take it anymore.

 

“S-sstooop!” Harry laughs, trapping Louis' hand under his arm. He's surprisingly out of breath for having been tickled for all of five seconds.

 

“Serves you right,” Louis chuckles, the corner of his eyes crinkled, smile wide. Harry releases his hand after a quick peck on the lips, then hauls himself off the bed to trudge slowly out of the room.

 

Louis too rolls out of bed and makes his way to the closet. Last night after work, he made certain they were stocked up on all the essentials: weed, papers, food, drinks, more than enough to last them the entire weekend. He even remembered to pay for Netflix this month, so he's off to a good start. Harry also brought a couple small tubes of his favorite lube, the _only_ one he'll let Louis use. He snags a filled zip-lock baggie from his hoodie pocket, then saunters back over to the bed to finish rolling.

 

Two minutes later, Harry reenters the bedroom wearing a big grin, boxer briefs, and an oversize white t-shirt. It is one of Louis' that quickly became his favorite to wear. “Do you want sausage _and_ bacon or just one?” He asks, looking at Louis through the floor length mirror on the wall opposite the bed. “I should probably cook it, because...y'know." He gestures with a quick flick of the wrist before wrapping long fingers around his outgrown curls to tie them up into a messy bun.

 

Louis stands up scoffing, “ok, ignoring _that_ ,” he mimics Harry's limp gesture and moves to stand at the end of the bed. “Both please.” He takes a moment to admire his boyfriend from head to toe, from the wispy curls at the base of his neck down to his pigeon-toed bare feet. He might even have clear nail polish on his toenails, which makes Louis smile even more, if that's possible. When Harry turns around, he looks effortlessly beautiful.

 

“You go on ahead, “ Louis smiles, “I'll join you soon.” With a fond look, he watches as his boyfriend shuffles toward the door, and then Harry stops suddenly at the threshold. He turns around slowly, hands fidgeting nervously with the bottom hem of the white t-shirt.

 

“Hey, Lou? Can we still talk later?” Louis can barely hear him from just a few feet away. “We don't _have_ to.”

 

Harry had told him last night that they need to talk. He nearly had a heart attack at first, immediately fearing the worst, then Harry explained that it's nothing bad, just something they should discuss sooner rather than later.

 

“Yeah, of course,” Louis frowns, concerned about why Harry seems so unsure of himself all of a sudden. They already agreed to talk about whatever it is... “I _want_ us to talk.”

 

With that, Harry nods happily and leaves the room, humming loudly all the way to the kitchen. _Please, God, H_ _arry has to say yes._

 

 

~ ● ~

 

 

The mouthwatering aroma of breakfast wafting into the bathroom causes Louis to rush his morning routine. He twists the shower handle to hot, giving the room time to fill up with steam as he relieves himself. He decided he’ll brush his teeth in the shower to save time, but he's too busy thinking about what's planned for after breakfast, he moves way too fast. He accidentally slams the toilet seat and lid down hard, making the whole wall shake. Random items from the shelf above come crashing down in avalanche fashion, scattering all over the tile floor.

 

“Great,” Louis mutters under his breath, rubbing the stubble along his sharp  jalwline, “don't got time for thi-”

 

And then, as if on hidden camera, the entire shelf comes down off the wall and smashes over the toilet with a thundering bang; the cheap ply board snaps in half at first contact with the porcelain. He doesn't want to turn around, this is not going to be good.

 

“Fuckin’ hell! I just mopped you!” Louis shouts helplessly at the floor while watching a muddy river of wintergreen mouthwash and neon pink Pepto Bismol run across the tiles. The trail nearly gets to the shower before he stops it with a socked foot.

 

“Gross. Oh jesus. Eww!” He looks from his wet sock over to the mess of plaster and toiletries. Is this how the day is going to be? Really?

 

The towel bar is too far away, and he really shouldn't use their only clean towel to mop up this nastiness anyway. Running low on options that don't involve calling for Harry, Louis carefully peels off his soiled sock and drops it where he stands. After scooping up as much of the minty-pink river as possible, he gets the rest with some toilet tissue and tosses both of his socks and the tissue in the trash. _Not worth saving_ he thinks, turning his nose up in disgust at the state of things in the once-pristine bathroom. Ok, so it wasn't perfect to begin with, but it was clean, sort of. How can he expect Harry to want to move into this dump?

 

He blinks blankly at the broken shelf and dusty plaster mess on the back of the tank. Doing DIY was not on his to do list today. He carefully slides both halves of the shelf in the narrow space beside the toilet and vanity and brushes off the plaster dust with more tissue.  It will have to do for now, as he takes a step back to make sure nothing else got broken in the disaster.

 

With an agitated growl, Louis kneels back down on the floor to pick up all the stuff that lay there scattered. There's definitely some of Harry's things in the mix- hair elastics, and a random pink bath bomb. So that's where his favorite razor went! He honestly thought Liam stole it. He should apologize to his roommate for tossing all of his hair products out the window...maybe....never. Ha.

 

After gathering up everything in his arms, he lines the bottles, tubes, packages, and miscellaneous things along the countertop. It'll have to do for now. He's about to stand up when one item with a faded green label catches his eye. In one swift motion he picks up the small tube of lube and stands up straight. His back cracks with the movement and it makes him cringe. Laying in bed all day sounds even more wonderful right now. Realizing he's wasted far too much time faffing about in the bathroom, Louis shoves the tube into his pocket without inspecting it any further, and turns off the shower. Now barefoot and mentally exhausted, he gives up on washing and heads for the kitchen.

 

When he gets there, he leans against the doorway for a moment, silently reveling in how Harry moves so angelically about the kitchen. He adores the way Harry’s hips rock as he stirs, how he mumbles to himself while flipping the sizzling meats, and seems to bounce around with his hands full.

 

“You look so sexy cooking delicious food in my kitchen.”  

 

He must have completely startled Harry, because the boy drops the metal spatula on the tile floor with a loud clang, then immediately bends down to retrieve it, tossing the utensil across the room into the empty sink.

 

“S-sorry!”

 

Louis steps into the room, shaking his head. Harry apologizes way too much, even if he didn't do anything wrong. Louis honestly thought Harry was getting better with this, but apparently not. His own wide blue eyes dart to the floor in momentary panic, he prays Harry didn't hear him yelling in the bathroom earlier. He _promised_ not to yell like that around him.

 

“Harry, s’alright, love. Sorry for sneaking up on you.” He approaches from behind and wraps his arms around Harry’s waist; the younger boy is once again facing the stove top deep in concentration, looking rather disturbed.

 

“What's wrong?”

 

“Nothing’s wrong.”

 

“Liar.”

 

“I'm just...m’still not used to…”

 

Louis nudges his shoulder, urging him to continue. Harry is obviously uncomfortable, but he shouldn't be, not with him. His boyfriend hauls in a deep breath and whispers, “being told I'm sexy. 'Cause I'm really not, and it's...embarrassing. “

 

Louis unwraps his arms from Harry's body and turns around so his back is flush with the cool countertop. He's more upset now than he was about the stupid bathroom bullshit.

 

“How long have I known you, Harold?”

 

Harry starts poking distractedly at a sausage in the pan with a paring knife. “Almost seven months.”

 

“And how many times have I told you how amazing and sexy you are?”

 

Louis catches the smallest of smiles appear on Harry's face. “A lot.”

 

Louis nods, “And do you know why I tell you those things, hmm?”

 

Harry doesn't respond yet he keeps poking away, and Louis wants to toss the whole pan out the window at this point.

 

“Because it's true, Harry. You really don't know how amazing you are, do you? Obviously, I need to say it more. And show you more, yeah?”  He pushes off from the counter so they stand chest-to-arm. The sausage poking has ceased, however, Harry remains silent. Louis counts to ten in his head before speaking again as he's said some regretful things over the years when he didn't pause to calm down first. 

 

“Can I finish up here so you can go relax?” He finally says rather sternly. He's not annoyed with Harry, just disappointed that the morning has taken such a serious turn.

 

“No, m’fine,” Harry stands up a bit straighter shaking his head. He makes a move to grab their plates, “sorry.”

 

“For fucks sake, Harry, stop it!” Louis didn't mean to yell, he really didn't. He knows Harry's ex boyfriend was a complete asshole, so Louis swore to never make the boy feel threatened in any way. It’s been nearly a year since Sam disappeared, and if Harry keeps saying he doesn’t need see a “professional” for help, then that’s his choice and Louis will continue to support it. It's just that this apologizing happens all the time, and as much as Louis adores everything about Harry, there are certain behaviours, like apologizing and asking permission, which don't seem to be getting better with time.

 

As if Harry can read Louis’ mind, he gently sets down the ceramic plates beside the stove, and heads for the door.

 

“Hey, wait,” Louis reaches out but the boy is too fast. He watches on curiously as Harry stops in the doorway, his shiny fingernails are picking at the chipping white paint of the door frame.

 

“I'll be reading in the living room,” he turns to say in Louis’ direction with an innocent smile. “Nude.”

 

Dammnit, Louis can't keep keep a straight face to save his life.

 

“Love you, Hazza.

 

”Love to too, Boo.”

 

Harry _has_ to say yes.

 

 

**~ ● ~**

 

 

Breakfast was delicious, as always. They ate in front of the TV in the living room; by the time Louis arrived with their plates piled high, Harry had put his shirt back on because he was cold (so he claims). After dropping their dirty plates into the sink and dashing to get that joint he rolled earlier, Louis returns to the living room to find his boyfriend laying on his stomach on the sofa reading quietly. The bottom hem of the wrinkly white t-shirt rests perfectly at the base of Harry's back; his whole bum exposed just for Louis to see.

 

He promptly takes a seat on the empty cushion, grabbing the remote as he sits down with a leg slotted on either side of Harry’s long, lean frame. He then gets his boyfriend's attention with a tap of his foot.

 

“Scoot back, love.”

 

“Huh?” Harry asks, turning his upper body to see Louis.

 

“No, stay like that, just move your arse back to like...here,” Louis gestures in the air in front of his own lap.

 

Harry places a bookmark between the open pages and begins to roll over.

 

“No,” Louis mumbles around the joint between his lips, “stay on your belly.” He lights it up and leans back against the arm of the sofa. “Keep reading, Hazz, just move back a little.”

 

When he thinks his boyfriend finally understands what he wants, Louis flings the lighter on the coffee table, turns the telly to football, and drops the remote on the back of the sofa.

 

With book in hand, Harry wiggles backwards on his knees and elbows until both thighs are snug against Louis’ hips and his cock and balls hover mere inches above Louis’ clothed crotch.

 

With a hand to Harry's lower back, Louis gently presses the boy down to rest comfortably in his lap. Something about still having a layer between them turns Louis on even more in the moment. He urges Harry to go back to reading and to not mind while he enjoys himself for a bit. Harry's giggles keep Louis smiling as he wastes no time spreading the boy’s smooth and practically hairless cheeks with both hands, rubbing a dry thumb teasingly over the small pink muscle. They haven't had sex in over a week, so he knows Harry is going to be tight.  

 

The younger boy is writhing, rutting slightly against Louis’ crotch. He asks for the joint, which Louis passes gladly, because he loves when Harry gets stoned; he gets horny as fuck. Louis needs to be inside there like now. He remembers there is lube in his pocket and quickly retrieves it, and then drizzles a liberal amount just at the top of Harry's arse. It’s incredibly hot spreading the warm gel around the fluttering muscle with three nimble fingers. He's sure to get his thumb covered in lube before sinking it slowly into Harry's tight heat. He's gotten the boy off on his fingers a few times in the past couple weeks, but that's all; it's going to be a tight fit, even after a good fingering.

 

“ _Hazza_ ,” he breathes hungrily, eyes fixed on where his finger disappears inside the boy's body. His hand is holding his boyfriend’s bum like a bowling ball, thumb buried up to the second knuckle. Fingertips press gently into the top of Harry's crack, eliciting a low hum from the teen. Harry is definitely loving it, Louis can tell by the way he's struggling to keep still while reading. He's such a good boy...and that gives Louis an idea. He's wanted to do this for ages, but hasn't had the courage to bring it up during any of their ‘likes and dislikes’ discussions. They established safe words a long time ago, but have yet to need them. Not that their sex has been boring by any means, they've just never played any games or experimented with kinks before as he thought it might be a bit much for Harry. It's always been a fantasy of Louis’ to dominate someone in bed though; who better than this angel laying so submissively in his lap?

 

“Hey, baby?” Louis’ voice is soft yet direct. He is so incredibly thankful Harry can't see him sweating from nerves, nevermind how turned on he is right now.  “Are you going to be a good boy while Daddy plays with you?”

 

Instantly, Harry stops twitching. _Fuck_. Five seconds feels like forever while Harry looks up from his book and nods twice.

 

“I will, Daddy.”

 

The lump in Louis’ throat feels the size of a football, but that's nothing when most of the blood in his body is rushing to his dick, leaving his brain with just enough to function.

 

“ _Yeah_?” He breathes out in disbelief. Harry likes this and is going along with it!?  _Holy shit,_  he's going to make every second count.

 

Harry nods again, this time pushing his bum back so his round cheeks spread wider against Louis’ fingers. “I wanna be good.”

 

Louis reclaims the joint from Harry and takes a few deep pulls before ashing it on the glass table and setting it down. Groaning wantingly, he wastes no time rubbing his thumb deeper and with purpose, rubbing teasingly against Harry's wet walls. Little moans fill Louis' ears, making him forget completely about the game in the background. It's just them two right now, not even a zombie invasion could get Louis to stop what he's  doing.

 

“Good boy.” He keeps working his thumb deep inside, searching for the one spot that's going to drive his boyfriend wild for sure.  He manages to get his own pants down and over his bum with one hand, freeing his half-hard cock from the confines of his plaid pyjama bottoms. When Louis gets _really_ turned on (whether he's fully hard or not), there's just so much precum. He used to be embarrassed by it, but luckily Harry loves his super wet penis. One time, when Harry was giving him a particularly amazing blow job, Harry told him he loves it, and he loves being covered in it; so Harry gets a ton of it slathered all over his ass while being scissored opened by Louis’ skillful fingers.

 

It doesn't take long to get Harry sufficiently opened up, enough for Louis to gently fuck three fingers into him for five minutes before helping Harry sit back and slide down on his leaking prick. The swollen head popped passed the tight ring of muscle easily, but the immense heat engulfing Louis’ shaft, as its pushed deeper and deeper, is almost intolerable. He releases the base of his dick and lets the foreskin slide back up,  savoring the sensation as it rubs against the rim of Harry's stretched hole.

 

Their skin meets with a wet _squish_ as he finally bottoms out. Harry's bum is completely covered in a shiny layer of Louis’ precum, making their skin-on-skin gyrations sound obscenely filthy.

 

“Go ahead, princess. Bounce on Daddy.”

 

Harry moans loud at that, like **really** loud, as he rests both open palms on Louis’ thighs to get leverage. This boy is too much... Louis is extremely thankful his neighbors work weekends, otherwise he'd never be able to look them in the eye again after this.

 

The drag on his cock feels less like fire now, but still so snug. When Harry clenches around him, more precum squeezes out, and Louis bites his bottom lip releasing a moan so deep he practically growls. This is only the second time the couple have had sex without a condom (the first time was on Christmas, and they ended up coming all over each other’s faces in the end). Louis doesn’t think anything of it in the heat of the moment, because he knows they are both clean, plus he's not using the lube Harry insists they _always_ use anyway...so to avoid argument, he's not even going to mention it.

 

“Fuck, baby, you feel amazing on me cock.” He hears Harry whimper at that, making him elicite some desperate noises of his own. Now the boy is moaning at the slightest jostle yet he keeps on riding.

 

“Please can I touch?” His innocent voice melts over Louis like butter. He is building up a steady rhythm, hips rocking back and forth as he slides up and down on Louis’ sloppy wet dick. The squelching noises are so fucking dirty, and Louis swears he felt Harry's cock slap his thigh a moment ago. The boy is rock hard and undoubtedly dying to be touched. He wonders if Harry could come without being touched and for how long they can both last.

 

Wanting to see and feel more, Louis grabs the bottom of Harry's shirt to lift it over the bouncing boy's head, stuffing it between himself and the arm rest. He then takes Harry's waist in a grip so tight, bruises will surely be there in the morning.

 

“No. No touching yourself. Be good for me and I'll make you come. You can do it, right?” He's enjoying this immensely,  so much so he can imagine them doing this every day if they could.

 

Harry whines, “please, Daddy! Please!?” His bum slaps down hard on Louis’ thighs, the tip of his cock hitting Harry’s prostate dead-on for the first time today. The teen throws his head back in pleasure and squeezes impossibly tighter around Louis’ length.

 

He needs to move, he needs to get into a better position and quick before he comes too soon. When Harry lifts his bum again, Louis hooks his arms underneath his thighs, and in one swift motion, swings their legs off the couch. Now they are both sitting upright, Harry is in his lap, firmly planted on his dick with his feet mere inches from the floor. Louis grabs his boy’s calves and wraps them around his own, locking them in place. He goes back to holding Harry by the waist, but this time Harry's arms are trapped at his sides, making the submissive boy whimper louder and needier. He wiggles a bit, then stills once Louis begins to slowly spread their legs apart. Harry's weight is sinking, increasing the pressure on Louis’ cock while keeping the submissive in a totally vulnerable position. It would be be very difficult for him to get out of this one quickly.

 

“Nooo!” Harry wails, cock twitching against his own stomach as his legs are spread further and further apart.

 

Louis knows the tip of his cock hasn't quite reached Harry’s prostate again, but it's apparently rubbing against _something_ pleasurable because the boy starts shuddering like crazy and mumbling _oh my god oh my god_ over and over.

 

“Fuck me, Lou, _please_ ,” Harry eventually growls, head thrown back so far the messy bun a top his head nearly hits Louis in the nose. He leans back out of the way so he can pull Harry up and slide out a couple inches, curious as to what the reaction will be.

 

“No no, please.. _You had it!_ Oh my god, Lou, you fucking had it..no one's ever... _please_.”

 

Louis has never seen his boyfriend so turned on, and needy. There's another new experience happening as well; he's not sure if it's just the missing condom or what, but Louis feels something warm gush over his throbbing dickhead where it's grinding near Harrys prostate. When he pulls out halfway, his entire lap is completely soaked. He can't stop licking his lips, this is all so fucking hot and _different_. He doesn't know how or why, but Harry is getting _wet,_ literally juicing from his ass. With a shit-eating grin, he thrusts his hips up and forward whilst pushing Harry down, pounding his entire length deep and hard into the same spot. There's a bit of creamy white at the base of his dick mixed with the lube-like wetness; the next time he pulls out he leaves just the tip buried inside the insatiable heat so he can stare at his new discovery for a moment.

 

The boy’s body is heavy in his lap, but bounces so nicely when Louis thrusts up into it. Harry shouldn't be calling him by his first name though, or swearing for that matter. He deserves a punishment, but maybe later, when they are not both perpetually on the verge of orgasm.

 

“Who's fucking you?” Louis punctuates each word with another hard thrust. “You call me Daddy, or else you don't come at all today!”  A sly hand reaches up to pinch one of Harry's nipples, making the boy cry out in mix of pleasure and pain. Of course Louis wouldn't do anything he doesn't think his boyfriend can handle.

 

“S-sorry, Daddy!” Harry gasps, obviously overwhelmed by all the pleasurable sensations happening to his body.

 

“Ok, it's ok,” Louis soothes, peppering wet kisses all over Harry's shoulder blades. “I got you, baby, you're being so good.” He  _is_ good, he's perfect.

 

He can see Harry's cock looks painfully red, still bobbing out in front of him with their movements. Still holding onto him tight with one hand, Louis reaches around with his other hand to wrap his fingers around Harry's length, spreading the dripping precum over the throbbing head and down to his tight balls. He massages them roughly in his hands several times before palming the taut skin on the underside of the ballsac up to reach the base of Harry’s dick.

 

“Oh yeah, please, need it,” Harry writhes, desperately humping Louis’ palm. He is hard in Louis’ hand, absolutely rock solid. Louis wants to feel him unravel under his touch.

 

“Please, what? Tell me what you need, princess.”

 

“Please, Daddy, let me come.” Harry whines, actual tears in his eyes.

 

 _Oh sweet Jesus._ Louis slows his hips and takes a moment to breathe. “If you come now, I'm still going to fuck you. Are you going to let Daddy use your soaked hole? Make him feel good too?”

 

“Yes! Please, I waaaaaa...” his words trail off into a long moan of nonsensical gibberish.

 

Beyond satisfied with that response, Louis begins jerking his wrist furiously. Harry is falling apart quickly in his hand, hips bucking up into Louis’ fist faster and faster as if his life depends on it.

 

“So so good….come for me, baby, I wanna see.”

 

All it takes is a half a dozen more strokes before Harry is spurting warm come all over his stomach and Louis’ hand and there's  more juicieness running out of his hole. Before the boy can come down from the intense orgasm, he is flipped over onto his back on the coffee table. His stomach and hips are smeared in his own come, as are Louis’ hands now maneuvering the teen’s legs so his feet are at the edge of the table, knees bent. Without a word, Louis slides into the boy once again, moaning as the heat engulfs him. The feeling is intense, almost too much for Harry, whose eyes are squeezed shut while Louis continues pounding away.

 

“Look at me.”

 

Harry sucks in his bottom lip as his eyes flutter open, just as Louis’ hips jerk out of rhythm. A few more thrusts and Louis is about ready to burst; he wanted to hold out a lot longer, but the pressure is too much, his balls are so tight, and there is two days worth of come about to explode at any moment.

 

“I'm gonna... _oh_ ,” Louis grunts, his hips moving in short quick thrusts. Harry is bouncing on the table, shifting up and down on the glass, eyes closed again and toes curled in ecstasy. His back arched just enough for Louis to ram straight into his prostate over and over. He leans down to suck hard on Harry's neck, leaving a red welt there on the tender skin before pulling away to nip at Harry's chin. Their eyes lock then, and that's enough for Harry, somehow Louis just knows.

 

“Come for me.” He only has to say it once, and Harry does as he's told. With both hands on Harry's shoulders, he watches wide-eyed as the boy paints his stomach white for the second time, but completely untouched. There's a lot more than either of them we're expecting, which pushes Louis over the edge. Harry is squeezing relentlessly around his cock as he his fucked through his orgasm.

 

“Ffffuuuck,” Louis breathes out as he finally releases deep inside Harry; letting out a soft whimper as their mixed warmth pools around the sensitive head of his softening prick. Intense is an understatement.

 

 

~ ● ~

 

 

“Mmm what time is it?” Harry groans sleepily. 

 

Louis peels open his eyes to check his phone. They've been asleep on the sofa for a couple hours, Harry curled up in his arms, and their legs outstretched and intertwined like fitting puzzle pieces.

 

“Horngry again?” Harry untangles his limbs and stands up on wobbly legs. He pulls on his underwear and gives Louis a cheeky wink. "Daddy."

 

Louis chuckles amused as his boyfriend takes two clumsy steps towards the kitchen and stumbles harmlessly into the adjacent wall. “With you, princess, always.”

 

 

 

~ ● ~

 

 

 

Once again Louis is stood in the kitchen watching as Harry prepares them a simple, yet delicious meal. The steaming pot of cooked spaghetti has been strained and set aside, so all Harry has to do now is stir the sauce while they wait for the garlic bread to finish off in the oven. Liam will be home soon, and Harry was sure to cook enough for all three of them. He must have caught Louis staring because the boy stops in his tracks in front of the stove and raises his eyebrows.

 

“You know,” Louis begins, taking a courageous step toward the end of the counter, “I'd love nothing more than to lay you across here every night,” he keeps his gaze down and runs an open palm over the smooth granite surface. “And show you how much I love you...then we make dinner in _our_ kitchen, eat at _our_ table,  and go to sleep in _our_ bed.”

 

He looks up at Harry who has on a perplexed expression. Even when he's confused he's gorgeous. The lump in Louis’ throat is growing, as is his half hard-on. **_This is it, this is it!_ **With eyes fixed on his boyfriend's, Louis clears his throat, and wills himself not to cry.

 

“Move in with me, Harry.”

 

He watches from behind as Harry tenses and drops the wooden spoon into the red sauce. He turns from his spot at the stove to face Louis with a look of disbelief. For a moment, Louis thinks he's upset the boy somehow, so he squeezes his eyes shut and clenches his fists at his sides, silently praying for the universal timeline to rewind five minutes so he can _not_ ask that question.

 

“Really? With _you_? Here? Are you _sure_?”

 

One eye squints open to see Harry staring at him with his most serious face to date. “Well,” he exhales, suddenly overcome with a feeling of rejection but he tries to shake it off. “Yes. I want us to be together all the time, Harry. Today sealed the deal for me.”

 

Instead of moving forward to collect Harry in his arms, Louis takes a step back. If Harry doesn't want to move in, then what? They can't keep things like this forever. He doesn't hear what Harry says next, but his head of tangled curls is bouncing up and down and suddenly their lips are crashing together. Harry’s weight forces Louis back into the floor length cupboards, and Harry lets out a long deep moan. He will take that as a yes!

 

Their kissing gets heated fast, their bodies pushing against the other to create some source of friction anywhere, everywhere, hands trailing up and down fabric and skin. Louis gets them situated so he can hoist Harry up onto the countertop, and gently pushes down on Harry shoulders so the boy reclines and lays propped up on his elbows. Harry's biting his bottom something fierce and his pupils are blown. Louis let out a moan that shakes through him and the sinful body below. He wastes no time tugging down Harry's boxer briefs so they are left dangling promiscuously on one leg. Harry is a blushing, aroused mess, who doesn't seem to care if they are both crying a little; this is like a dream come true. He wipes a thumb over the boy's cheek, stopping a few tears in their tracks.

 

“God, you are gorgeous." He can't get enough of those green eyes, the boy's face; his eyes dart rapidly over every inch of Harry's body as he tries to calm his breathing. "I need to eat you right here, right now.”

 

Harry's head falls back at Louis' words. The pale skin of his neck now fully exposed and so delicious looking the older man could cover it in love bites until they both came. He's already made Harry orgasm twice today, and, he's sure he can get another one out of him. The boy's legs are spread wide, cock laid against his pale skin, arse lined up with the edge of the counter for easy access. Louis anchors himself in position, feet shoulder-width apart, hands splayed on the back of Harry’s smooth thighs.

 

Suddenly, they hear the front door burst open just as Louis licks a wet stripe up Harry's crack, swirling his tongue twice around the (still) slightly gaping muscle. A familiar voice shouts from the front hall. It's Louis’ roommate, Liam. He announces that he got the job, the one he's been waiting to get for months!

 

Louis abandons Harry’s fluttering hole for a moment to stand up straight and yell to his best mate, “In the kitchen!”

 

He looks intently at Harry when the boy gasps audibly, steuggling to sit up, but Louis doesn't move. “But don't come in!”

 

He can hear shoes being kicked off, hitting the low wooden bench in the hall (an item Harry suggested they buy for the flat since they all carry tons of bags and stuff to and from work everyday).

 

“Why not!?” Liam shouts back, making Louis chuckle into Harry’s thigh. His friend can be a right idiot sometimes.

 

Louis bends down once more to slide a dry index finger into Harry's tight heat. It's still wet and sticky from him coming deep inside there just a couple hours ago. He grins madly remembering how good it felt, how the obscene noises Harry made while coming untouched makes him want to do it over and over and over again for the rest of their lives. The sight was unreal, as was everything else... some of the horniest stuff he has ever seen.

 

“‘Cause I'm knuckle deep in Harry right now and-” Harry smacks him on the side of the head before he can finish that sentence.

 

“ _Lou!”_ The writhing boy whines. Ok, Louis gets it; Harry fears Liam will walk in on him all spread out like a whore next to their dinner, with Louis’ digits up his arse. The perve side of him thinks that would be kinda hot, actually, but he has to laugh at Harry’s face.

 

“ _What_? It's true!” His smile fades immediately when he realizes Harry’s breathing has become heavy and he's starting to sit up awkwardly in attempt to hide himself or roll off the counter.

 

Louis follows Harry’s frantic gaze, which is fixed on the empty doorway. All it takes is for Harry to whisper his name one more time and he carefully withdraws his finger. Great, now he's just made the boy uncomfortable and this was supposed to be a joyous moment. They were having such a good day, and he had to ruin it by being selfish. His focus goes straight back to Harry’s paling face.

 

“Ok, ok, Hazza, m’sorry.” Louis carefully guides Harry's leg back into his underwear, shimming the black fabric up and over Harry’s bum as he sits upright on the counter. His long legs dangle off the edge with Louis in between them. Harry is smiling, but Louis still examines his features with great scrutiny.

 

Before Louis can apologize again, Liam comes into the room, adjusting the messenger bag strap pressed against his chest. He has a travel mug in one hand an a torn-open envelope in the other. His usually perfect quiff of dark brown hair is a ruffled mess, probably from running his hands through it nervously all day. He looks the happiest Louis has seen him in a long time, though, so that's nice.

 

“So? Are we celebrating tonight?” Liam asks Harry flat out, not even acknowledging Louis.

 

The ignored man pushes up slightly on his toes to plant a sucking kiss on Harry’s jaw. He feels the boy shudder a little when he does, and their eyes lock as he pulls away.

 

Louis' face cracks into a grin to match Liam’s, and his eyebrows raised in question. Harry smiles too, taking the opportunity to officially answer.

 

“Yes!”

 

 

~ ● ~

 

 

“Alright! I say current events call for drinks!”

 

“So lad, tell us about this job.”

 

“Right, so as you know I've been putting my resume out there for months?”

 

The couple nod in unison, their mirroring is on par this evening. The trio naturally gathered around the dinner table to catch up before starting their meal.

 

“Well, I get a letter today, and boom! I start at VRH International this Friday.”

 

Harry immediately tenses in Louis’ lap. He had been bouncing a leg happily until suddenly the wobbly table stopped shaking and the faint squeaking noise ceased as well. Louis eyes him, concerned when he starts biting harshly on his chapped bottom lip, attempting a side smile; a telltale sign, Louis has learned, the boy is uncomfortable but can't communicate properly. _Watch his breathing closely now_ , Louis reminds himself. Liam is staring at Harry expectantly, and Louis has to wonder if his friend is seeing what he's seeing. Is there actually something _he_ knows about Harry that Liam doesn't? The corner of his mouth twitches happily at the very thought.

 

“It's just for an orientation type thing, but yeah, Friday. Seems we’ll be seeing a lot more of each other, Harry.”

 

Harry's eyebrows raise at the mention of his name, however, Louis beats him to speaking.

 

“Oh really?” He side-eyes his boyfriend briefly before focusing back on Liam. “Do tell.”

 

“We'll be working on some projects together, so that's pretty sweet. We'll have to prepare the NorthEast presentation together when we return from the States. Your photos and write-up, not sure what I'll be doing yet though. Maybe floorplans or summat?"

 

“Are they comping your flight like they did mine? I mean, they should.” Harry finally speaks, and Louis is truthfully thrown. He wasn't expecting him to want to be a part of this conversation. 

 

“Yes, actually, which reminds me,” Liam reaches into his back pocket and grabs his cell phone. “I figured it out...with the money we save not having to buy my plane ticket, we'll have enough to stay over in the city our first night. None of us have to drive four hours after flying.”

 

"Thank god.”

 

"That's great, Li.”

 

Liam reveals they'll be working together on some other projects projects as well, which all three of them agree is a great opportunity for both of them. Harry notes having a friend at work will be nice considering everyone else who currently works there is well older and still consider him a “kid” most days. Once the coversation comes to and end, Harry goes back to the kitchen to get the food, which the other two quickly dish out onto their plates. 

 

“So, suppose I'll need to start looking for another place to live," Liam announces around a mouthful of spaghetti.  "Mmmm, I should be able to afford a slightly smaller place of my own.”

 

“Can start asking around at work, see if anyone knows of any places available…”

 

“Just move into my room,” Harry chimes in. “Wouldn't that make sense? Niall would love it.”

 

Louis and Liam both stop chewing to fish-mouth a few times at their plates. Liam speaks first.

 

“Well, it would be less expensive than having my own place, and Niall is at cool guy,” he reasons, looking at Louis for some reason with raised eyebrows as if to ask for his opinion.

 

“So you swap rooms? Harry gets yours as his office?" That could work, afterall, he would feel terrible for making his friend move out without helping him find another place; this way Liam would still be close enough they will see each other all the time. "Sounds like a sweet deal. Harry?”

 

“Yeah, I like it. Li?”

 

“I'll speak with Niall tonight,” a big grin spreads across Liam’s face, “I'm happy for you guys.”

 

Louis locks eyes with his boyfriend and they share and fond smile over the table, which their friend doesn't miss. Liam cocks his head the the side and chuckles in Louis’ direction, snapping his friend out of his reverie.

 

“If everyone's finished, I'll clear the table,” Harry stands, reaching across the other two for their empty plates. Liam gives him a quick nod and pulls out his phone again.

 

“Thanks, love,” Louis winks at Harry as the boy heads for the kitchen with their stack of dirty plates and assorted cutlery.

 

Louis leans back in his chair, hands falling to his lap with a satisfied sigh. He was about to ask Liam is he wants to play a quick game of FIFA before bed when his wrist meets something rigid. Oh yeah! He fishes the item out if his pocket and holds it up.

 

“Hey, is this yours?” He asks Liam, who has his nose buried in his cell phone, tapping away at the lit screen. He must be texting someone from work, it's always work with Liam.

 

“Dunno,” the distracted boy shrugs, “what is it?”

 

Louis mimics his friend's shrug and passes him the half-empty tube, watching as Liam's cheeks flush an embarrassing shade of red.

 

The younger friend shakes his head and chuckles. “Not mine, mate.” He passes the lightweight tube back to Louis. “Did you ask Harry?”

 

Louis quirks an eyebrow before spinning the tube between his fingers a few times. “Lad doesn't even need lube, you wouldn't believe what happ-” he glances up once more at Liam, who's mouthing something to the wall behind Louis’ head.

 

“What I miss?” Louis asks, turning his upper body to see Harry standing there holding three dirty wine glasses and with a frown on his face. Louis didn't even hear him come in.

 

Eventually, Harry’s eyes meet his, creating an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach. Unable to stand the tension for a millisecond more, he laughs nervously and slides the tube across the wooden table towards his boyfriend.

 

“Where did you...get that?” Harry asks, resting the wine glasses back down on the table without breaking eye contact.

 

He's breathing heavily, and Louis has to wonder what's got him so bothered.

 

“Need any help cleaning up, H?” Liam cuts in before Louis can answer.

 

“Um, no. Thanks m’good.” Harry mumbles, eyes diverting away from the bottle of expired spermicidal lube.

 

Before Louis can open his mouth to ask what the _hell_ is going on, Harry’s disappearing back into the kitchen and Liam is getting up to follow after him with the burgundy-stained glasses.

 

It's moments like this Louis resents the fact that Liam met Harry first. The two were friends _months_ before Louis even got to meet Harry. Granted, if it weren't for Liam becoming fast friends with Harry's best friend, Niall last year, neither of them would have met the curly-haired boy. Needless to say, Harry and Liam’s mysterious “friendship” has been a secret insecurity of Louis’ from the start.

 

Nearly a year later and apparently Harry and Liam still have a special connection, one Louis thinks he'll never understand.

 

He and Liam have something like that, Louis supposes, but at least their friendship makes sense. There's no mystery about it, they're plain and simple best mates, four-years running. Also, there's no random awkwardness or flirting between he and Liam...nothing that makes Harry feel like a complete and utter twat when they're all together. Yeah, Louis sees it, he hears it, he feels it all, and it hurts like hell sometimes, but who is he to tear apart two good friends?

 

Harry is Louis’ _boyfriend_ , though, and that comes with an exclusive level of trust and emotions. Right? So why is he sitting here alone at the dinner table while his best mate chases after his boyfriend? Why does Harry even need chasing after anyway?

 

Louis can't even think about getting up from the table before Liam reappears alone. He promptly reclaims his seat across from Louis, and starts shooting the breeze as if the past two minutes haven't been completely fucking weird.

 

“So, mate, it's finally happening...you two living together. Getting serious.”

 

“Yeah.” It comes out raspy and dry, yet Louis feels like there's too much spit in his mouth. “Yeah, I'm buzzin’.”

 

He's not lying, he is happy Harry is moving in, and Liam got the job he wanted, and everything else seems to be going pretty well too (except for the whole bathroom disaster), yet something doesn't feel right. He can't even look at Liam, he just sits there staring down at his hands, picking away at a pesky hangnail. He should really trim his fingernails, poor Harry.

 

Suddenly, the distant sound of dishes clanging fills the awkward silence. Liam begins talking about something, but Louis honestly doesn't have space in his brain right now for any new information, never mind pretending to be interested.

 

He nods a couple times as if he's retaining what is being said, but really he’s racking his brain trying to remember when (and why) he ever bought spermicidal lube.

 

“Suppose it's only going to get better though.” Once again, Liam snaps Louis back into the moment. “Harry's come a long way since we met.”

 

That's very true, Louis assumes Liam is referring to the night he met Harry. Liam has never told Louis much about it other than he's thankful it happened, for many reasons, most importantly being Louis & Harry’s relationship. All Harry has ever told him is that his ex-boyfriend broke up with him that same day, and luckily he met Niall (who knew Liam) because of it.

 

But it's not like Louis is jealous or anything, because that would mean he's accepted that his best friend is closer with his boyfriend than he will ever be and that's...well that's just...he's not jealous, dammit.

 

“He's amazing,” Louis says adamantly as he stirs in his seat. “Always has been.” And that's the truth.

 

 

 

**_~  ● ~_ **

 

 

 

_“I'll see you again soon, H.” Liam immediately shook his head, chuckling at himself. He had been trying so hard to act casual since he met up with Niall and Harry earlier that evening, the nickname just sort of slipped out. “Sorry, Harry. Can I call you H?”_

 

_Harry nodded, face still buried in Liam’s neck. He's taken aback when Harry tells him he can call him whatever he wants, because he's sure it would only be good things._

 

_“Goodnight, Harry. Get some sleep for me, yeah?”_

 

_Harry had to let go, but he couldn’t move._

 

_Like a dam breaking, Harry’s emotions exploded, without poise or composure; he couldn't seem to control his body, nor his sobs. He inhaled deeply, physically shaking from it. Yet there Liam stood, holding him tight in the hallway in front of Niall’s dorm room. He didn't care at all if Harry was crying into the expensive jacket he borrowed that smells like vanilla and cigarettes; a pleasant contrast to his own cologne._

 

_In the moment, he could only imagine how Harry was feeling...exhausted, scared, heartbroken?  He was so quiet, like he had been used to crying silently; like he had been told not to cry, not to make a sound._

 

_Liam tried pulling away, Harry’s hands still clinging desperately onto the jacket as if his life depended on it. The boy couldn't let go._

 

_“Hey,” Liam cooed, “Harry, it's ok. You're fine now, c’mon.” Harry yelped at that and Liam immediately knew everything was far from fine._

 

_Harry was on the verge of passing out, Liam could tell; the heat radiating off of the trembling boy now uncomfortably warm. Liam rubbed soothing circles on Harry’s back, instinctively humming so he could feel the soothing vibrations._

 

_“Niall is such a good mum. I promise you'll be safe here with him, Harry.” Liam whispers into Harry's sweaty curls. He starts swaying just a little with Harry in his arms. Liam would have honestly taken the boy home with him if no one else were there. His roommate would not have been keen to have a stranger over without notice, never mind all the drama he'd bring. Also, Liam had been ignoring his phone after getting the emergency call from Niall. He didn't have a moment to text Louis he'll be late, so of course Louis had been calling and texting him all night._

 

 _Besides, who knew for how long Harry needed a place to stay. More importantly, Liam shouldn't have be thinking about holding Harry in bed until the sweet boy fell asleep. Surely that would be overstepping. Clearly, this boy needed a_ ** _friend_** _tonight and nothing more. He tried shifting Harry out of his arms to no avail. The boy was still crying, but not shaking as much._

 

_Eventually, Harry got the hint. He tried sniffling the snot back into his nose before Liam could see his pathetic state. It didn't work all that well, so he quickly covered his nose with the back of his hand. Liam could barely hear Harry when he whispered._

 

_“Ok...I trust you.”_

 

_Those three little words echoed loudly in Liam's mind over and over again, all the way back to his and Louis’ flat. They had only known each other for a couple hours, but there was an instant connection. It confused and intrigued him immensely. Liam had witnessed a person having a panic attack before, but what happened with Harry in the hallway...it was...it was something else. The boy was breaking._

 

_Liam had kissed Harry on the forehead after gently prying each one of the boy's fingers from his clothing. He waited until Harry was safely tucked away in Niall’s room, then stood there outside the closed door for another 15 minutes, silently keeping guard._

 

_Despite being utterly confused as to how his normal Friday night turned out like that, Liam couldn't stop thinking about turning the car around and going back to Harry._

 

 

 

**_~ ● ~_ **

 

 

 

“I'm not being weird! Maybe you're being weird! Why are you interrogating me?”

 

Harry circles the coffee table for the third time and Louis bolts up from the recliner to follow him around the glass-top like it's a game of tag.

 

“I haven't asked you one fucking question! Jesus, Harry, are you drunk?” It's a legit question, and literally the only one Louis has asked him since dinner. Harry could have easily downed a bottle of wine in 15 minutes, and he hasn’t seen the boy since he disappeared from the dining room with Liam hot on his heels, and now Louis doesn't understand why his boyfriend won't just sit still and talk.

 

“I don't want to talk now. Ok? Let's do it another time.” The last of Harry's words dissolve into the air as he bolts for Louis’ bedroom.

 

“Harry!” Louis calls after him, not caring if he disturbs Liam who went to his own bedroom shortly after their awkward conversation ended. He had stood up and walked away from the table in the middle of Liam reminiscing about that night; he just couldn't sit there listening about _Liam &Harry _ anymore. Liam didn't say anything after that either, but Louis _knows_ his friend said something to Harry afterwards. He thinks maybe that's why he's here now, chasing Harry around the flat. He finally catches up to him just as Harry is about to open his bedroom closet.

 

“Shit,” Harry’s hand stills on the doorknob, his expression unreadable. “I don't live here. Shitshitshit.”

 

“What are you doing?” Louis pants, placing both hands on his hips. Fucking running laps around his flat at 10pm...what is even happening?

 

Harry turns his head slowly, eyes narrowed and burning a hole through Louis’ utterly confused face.

 

“Leave.me.alone.”

 

Louis never would have believed Harry's voice could get any deeper, but _damn_.

 

“O-okay. Alright, fine, just-” Louis puts his palms up and approaches slowly, hoping Harry accepts his surrender. He gets to the foot of the bed before Harry turns away completely.

 

“I'm not talking with your back turned to me, Harold.”

 

Harry snorts at that, and it's really the last straw for Louis. He was going to keep going along with this nonsense until Harry complies like a rational human being, but not if he's behaving like a child. He's never run away like this before, and just when Louis thinks he has the boy figured out.

 

“If you don't want to be here, just say it.”

 

Well that certainly got Harry’s attention, and he turns around so they are looking at each other again.

 

“What?”

 

It's difficult, but Louis ignores Harry's glassy eyes and how quickly his nose is turning pink from holding in the tears. Louis can't believe they’re fighting right now. Is this even a fight?

 

“Why won't you talk to me? You wanted to before, what's wrong now?”

 

Louis watches as Harry comes toward the bed and sits next to where he stands.

 

“I do wanna be here,” Harry sighs. “Of _course_ I do. It's just-” Harry stops mid sentence making Louis frown.

 

As the seconds pass, the more nervous Louis becomes. He keeps his lips pursed and raises his eyebrows, urging Harry to continue.

 

“Are you mad at me?” Harry’s voice is barely a whisper.

 

 _What in the what?_ “No…” Louis scrunches his brow in confusion. “Why would I be mad? " Wonderful, now he can't even be upset without upsetting Harry. "Well, I kinda was upset there when you ran away from me, but no. I'm not mad at you, love.”

 

Louis watches as Harry pulls on a loose thread sticking up from the duvet.

 

“You're mad at Liam?” Harry asks even quieter, if that's possible.

 

“Should I be!?” Louis’ voice involuntarily raises an octave. Seriously, if Liam did something to Harry (or with Harry), he will go set his best friend’s car on fire and turn himself in afterwards. “Wait,” he scratches an annoying itch on the back of his calf, “is this about the stupid lube?" He catches the boy flinch. "Harry, it's not mine, I don't _need_ that stuff. Obviously I'm not sleeping with any women. But umm, I did use it today. Sorry, I didn't use yours.”

 

Harry doesn't react, at all, which is a bit concerning. He's still pulling away on the white string as if trying to unravel the whole blanket.

 

Louis coughs and carries on speaking. “I'm not mad at anyone, ok? I thought _you_ were mad at _me_.” Louis sits beside his boyfriend on the bed. “Sometimes, though…”

 

Harry's head snaps up at that and he seems to be listening intently to what Louis is saying. “Sometimes, what?”

 

“Nevermind.”

 

Harry frowns at him, “No, what is it?”

 

“You still want to live together, yeah?”  

 

Harry nods frantically whilst pulling a few stray curls back behind his ear. “Yes.”

 

Louis smiles for the first time in a long while. “Sorry to make everything…” he waves his hands around in the air between them, “so weird. This is not how I wanted today to be, at all. I'm sorry.”

 

Harry nods again and stands. “M’sorry for running away from you. That was stupid. Sometimes, y’know, I just need space. Sorry. Are you...are you ok?”

 

“I am. Really.” Louis stands up as well and takes a step closer to lightly touch Harry's elbow. He doesn't have to scold Harry for apologizing this time, which is refreshing. “Are you? We like, never do this. Argue, I mean.”

 

“I'm alright,” Harry confirms, “I never want us to ever fight. I hate it.”

 

“Me too, Hazza, me too. I still want us to talk...about, yknow, what you wanted to talk about. Sometime soon?”

 

“Definitely, yes. Don't let me forget.”

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooooo, boys be lying already tsk tsk. 
> 
> If anyone is concerned about how male pregnancy and birth plays out in this universe... before writing anything, I spent quite some time figuring out exactly how the entire process works. I understand "pooping out babies" is a no-go for many, so for the record, that won't be happening here. It's all explained later, when it becomes relevant. Just giving everyone a heads up.
> 
> Chapter 4 is done, so check back soon!
> 
> Questions? Concerns? Let me know. Kudos and comments are love. XxPv


	4. Moving Pictures

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“Should I…” the whirring of the ceiling fan was making him anxious, and his throat started to close just thinking about continuing the question…”should I tell him about...that I can…?"_
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> _“Have babies?” Niall lifted Harry's chin with his index finger, coaxing the nervous boy to look him in the eye. “Maybe not tonight, but you definitely should. If you're ever going to sleep with him, he deserves to know.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Buckle up for a flashback to Larry's first date! We catch up to the present halfway through. Enjoy the smut and feels!
> 
> *** Be aware that there are WARNINGS/TRIGGERS for this story, including but not limited to: panic attacks, physical domestic and verbal abuse, miscarriage, and reference to abortion and rape. There may be more important warnings for future chapters, so **please always read the authors notes**. Thank you!

 

 

 

 

_"So did you tell him?"_

 

_"I couldn't do it, Niall. I just couldn't, not after what happened today."_

_"What happened? Do I need to come get you?"_

_"No," Harry rolled his eyes on the other end of the phone. He called Niall as soon as Louis fell asleep; luckily it didn't take very long, and he was able to sneak out of the bedroom and passed Liam's room without waking either of them._

 

 _"Everything was going great, I was all set to tell L_ o _u about everything, we were going to sit down and talk, but then he's there holding an old bottle of my lube, like a really old one, asking Liam about it and then he asked **me**. It was awful, Ni, I almost had a panic attack right there in from of them. Both of 'em were following me around after that, Liam trying to fix everything but somehow making it worse, and Louis thinking I'm crazy or drunk...he looked so mad. His eyes reminded me of Sam for a minute and I freaked out. I ran away from him."_

 

 _"Whe_ re _are you now?" Niall asked calmly._

 

 _I'm in the living room. The guys are sleeping._ _Lou says we're OK, and he still wants us to talk, but I don't know what to do, Ni. Tell me what to do."_

_It was a long moment of silence before Niall sighed heavily into the phone. "I'd say tell him the truth before it's too late, but I think it's already too late, Harry. I've said it a hundred times...if you're sleeping with him, he deserves to know. It's been months. **Months**. You have to tell him now."_

 

 ~ ● ~

 

_***6 Months Ago, November 8th*** _

 

All it took was one drunken decision made on Halloween night for Harry to question everything about himself all over again. It had been over a month since he had a panic attack, and according to Niall, his sleep talking had lessened over time; they didn't share a room anymore, so it was hard to tell when it stopped completely. Even so, Harry’s head wasn't always in the best place, and thinking about his upcoming date with Louis must have been bringing back certain doubts and emotions. He pretended like he didn't need professional help to properly heal and move on from the past, but some days Harry thought that was precisely what he needed. Niall was no psychologist, but he did help immensely. If only Harry could have smoked a bit of weed though, just a few hits before bed, then maybe he could have relaxed enough to sleep through the night.

 

“No.”

 

“Huh?” Niall turned his head just enough to see the boy had fallen asleep on his shoulder. He was helping Niall prepare for an exam, but they became distracted by a bizarre nature show on telly halfway through the stack of study flashcards and the boy must have nodded off.

 

“Harry,” Niall whispered, nudging the boy gently with his arm as to not startle him. Instead of moving away, Harry curled into a ball the best he could around Niall’s torso, taking the latter by surprise.

 

“Please no,” the low mumbling got louder as Harry dug his face deeper into Niall’s t-shirt. A helpless whine escaped the boy’s raspy throat, and that was it for Niall, he had to wake Harry up. Now.

 

Before moving into their flat, Niall spent nearly every night lying awake in bed listening to his friend talking to himself and crying in his sleep. At first, Niall tried his best to ignore it, because he wasn't sure what to do, or say. Although they got on like a house on fire, they still didn't know each other all that well, and Niall figured he'd give Harry space to go through all the emotions and ultimately heal with time; and he would be there in the morning when Harry woke up, ready to make the boy smile. Well, that was the plan. Eventually he found himself crawling into Harry’s bed in the middle of the night, holding the shaking boy close until the screaming stopped. Sometimes it would take an hour, other times it took all night; he's watched the sun rise through brown curls countless times, and has cried quietly into the soft hair every time. Nothing ever stopped Harry from getting up on time to go to work though, and Niall admired that; he himself had skipped quite a few morning classes due to extreme tiredness and being emotionally drained, but he never told Harry about that.

 

It wasn't until after they moved into the flat, and Harry came back from a well-deserved week at his mother’s house did the night terrors become less intense, and less frequent. By the time Halloween rolled around, Niall knew Harry was better and ready to meet people again; he had a job, a phone, a car, and friends. Life was getting better by the day, and so was Harry’s headspace. It must have been his date with Louis that was  making Harry so anxious again, and raising his anxiety levels to the highest they had been in months.

 

“Harry, you gotta wake up now,” Niall tried again, carefully and slowly sliding out from underneath his friend's dead weight. That's when the tears started. The sleeping boy wailed so loud, Niall couldn't believe he wasn't waking up from the volume.

 

“Fuckfuckfuck,” the blonde boy muttered, trapped between the sofa and a crying, clingy Harry. The boy's eyes were squeezed shut, face tear stained and red. He was sweating and started shaking, the whole sofa was vibrating. “Harry!” he shouted above the desperate sobs, “c’mon, please, Curly, it's OK, you're safe. It's me, Niall!”

 

He successfully freed both arms from between their bodies and shook Harry by the shoulders, jostling him gently until he could see green eyes fluttering open. When they did, Niall didn't get the reaction he was used to.

 

Without warning, Harry pulled back his right arm and swung a fist directly into Niall’s chest. Luckily, there wasn't much power behind the punch but it still hurt. Instead of cussing his friend out for the physical attack, Niall continued to assess the situation. Harry was still crying and mumbling something but he couldn't understand a single word the boy was saying. His bloodshot eyes were getting wider by the second, his speech slowing to the point his words faded to nothing.

 

“Harry? You with me, buddy?” When Harry's eyes focused on his and he nodded, Niall expelled a sigh of relief. That was intense. “You alright? Scared me.” He reached up to tuck a curl behind Harry's ear and the boy let him, leaning into the loving touch.

 

“Sorry, Niall.” It came out a raspy whisper.

 

Niall wanted to crush him in a hug and never let go. “Shhh,” he cooed, adjusting them both on the cushions so they can snuggle comfortably. “Don't talk, just relax. You're not going anywhere tonight.” He couldn't let Harry go out like that, especially on a date. It was too much pressure, obviously.

 

“Louis,” Harry gasped sleepily, suddenly remembering he had to pick up his date in just under an hour.

 

“No, don't even think about it, I'll call him and tell him you'll go out another time.”

 

“No! You can't do that, Niall. S’not fair. I can still go. I'm fine!” Although he was a bit rattled after waking up abruptly from a nightmare, he didn't remember any of it, thankfully.

 

Niall hugged him him a bit tighter. “Your sanity is worth more than a date with anyone, even Tomlinson.”

 

“I need to do this, it's been long enough. And I can't let him down.”

 

 ~ ● ~

 

"How's this?”

 

Niall frowned, shaking his head disapprovingly. “You look like an old bag lady. You're going on a date, Harry, not herding cats.”

 

“You're such an ass,” Harry was about to smack Niall upside the head, then he remembered he just punched the guy, so he refrained. “I like this sweater.” He wasn't in the mood for Niall’s unhelpful remarks that night. He knew his friend didn't want him to go out, but that didn't mean he had to be mean. He had fifteen minutes to finish getting ready for his first official date. He spent the last half hour constantly running back and forth between the closet and the bathroom, throwing clothes and shoes all over the place; all the while driving Niall absolutely insane with his worrying.

 

“I'm serious! I don't know what to wear, or what to talk about, or anything. I barely remember what Lou’s told me about himself, and have no clue what I've told him about me. Why did I agree to this? How the hell am I supposed to be normal when I am anything but?” Flirting while they were both drunk on Halloween was one thing, but being himself while in a sober frame of mind...that was a tall order for Harry. He had every right to be nervous, after all he wasn't going on his first date ever with just anyone, no. He was going out with Louis _fucking_ Tomlinson. The sexy and sassy man was older, and probably had years of experience, and Harry well, he only knew what you're not supposed to do and what doesn't feel good. How could he ever explain that to someone like Louis?

 

Unable to muster the courage to chat before their date, he resorted to short vague texts and a simple, “pick u up @ 7? Hope u like Italian” to finalize their plans for Friday night. Since he was the one with a car, they figured it would make more sense for him to take control of their date plans. At least that's what Louis’ text the following day lead him to believe. It must have been something they discussed in their drunken state, and Harry didn't remember. All he knew was he had a date, and he couldn't stop stressing about it.

 

“Maybe you should be honest, like tell him about your life...and stuff.”

 

“And stuff? What stuff?” He asked Niall through the mirror. The irish lad simply shrugged back, averting any eye contact. Oh no. “Not that stuff, Ni. He'll get up and run for sure.”

 

“He's gonna want to know, especially if you two do it.”

 

As if struck by lightning, Harry jolted where he stood in front of the mirror; he had purposely pushed all intimate thoughts out of his mind so he could just focus on simply walking without tripping. Louis could have been expecting sex, and God knows what else.

 

“No, we won't,” he asserted, shaking out his shower-wet curls before running both hands through the tangled mess. “I doubt he'll even want to.”

 

“Do you?” Niall was quick to query.

 

Harry took a moment to think on it; he had been thinking about it all week unfortunately, way too much.

 

“Yes. And no.”

 

Niall bit his lip and nodded understandingly as he took a step back. He got where his friend was coming from, he knew what Harry was afraid of deep down. “I know you don't want to think about it, H, but Louis isn't _anything_ like Sam.”

 

Harry knew Niall was right. What are the chances of another boyfriend turning out to be evil like Sam? Wait, this was just a date, Harry reminded himself, they weren't even dating properly yet. Oh god, what was he doing? 

 

“Just trust me, ok? You'll be awesome tonight, don't overthink anything. You'll both have fun, and you'll be making plans for the next one before tonight is even over. I know it.”

 

“Should I…” the whirring of the ceiling fan was making him anxious, and his throat was closing just thinking about continuing the question…”should I tell him about...that I can…?"

 

“Have babies?” Niall lifted Harry's chin with his index finger, coaxing the nervous boy to look him in the eye. “Maybe not tonight, but you definitely should. If you're ever going to sleep with him, he deserves to know.”

 

~ ● ~ 

 

When they returned to Harry’s flat, Louis was sweating so badly. Their date had been going fantastically, but he couldn't help being nervous. Man, did he need a smoke! He really liked Harry, and figured Harry did too since he was the one who insisted they come back there instead of getting dessert. Regardless, the night was still a bit nerve-wracking.

 

Unfortunately, Louis didn’t put socks on with his dress shoes, so once his feet began sweating at the restaurant, he started to freak out inside. Then he's standing in Harry’s kitchen, sweating out of every pore, and the looming truth that the shoes will have to come off at some point was closing in. Wait! He reached deep into the inside breast pocket if his blazer and found what he was looking for; a freshly rolled spliff just waiting for a time like this.

 

While Harry was still in the bathroom, Louis snuck out onto the balcony and lit up. The smoke felt nice as it entered his lungs, a thick plume of white hanging over him like a heavy rain cloud. He needed to get his shit together, he had to calm down so he could perform and not look like a complete tit in front of the boy.

 

“Ok, I can do this,” he assured himself as he walked back into the silent flat. Harry must have still been in the loo...he was taking forever, great. He was stalling, he didn't want to do this. Louis took another step towards the kitchen and felt the sweat squish between is toes; it was so gross, he needed to fix it, stat!

 

On his way back from the loo, Harry caught him with his right leg slung up on the counter, washing his bare foot in the kitchen sink. There were suds of dish soap and water all over the counter top, all over Louis’ nice clothes, and all over the tile floor nearest the sink.

 

“What are you-? Lou?”

 

Shit. He couldn't even turn his head to see how disappointed Harry must have looked. He was sure the boy wanted nothing to do with him after seeing him like that; what the hell was he thinking!?

 

“You can take a shower,” Harry's calm voice startled him, “if you want. Might be easier.”

 

Louis mustered the courage to turn his gaze and saw Harry smiling so big his dimples popped, and eyes were lit up like he was thoroughly amused by the embarrassing situation. Louis couldn't take it anymore, he needed to kiss those lips. Those lips which have been teasing him since Halloween. Those lips that he had been dreaming about for days on end, even when he was awake and should have been thinking about work, or his family, or literally anything else. Something inside the boy was calling him, marking his soul, and it physically hurts his chest the longer they stood so far apart. It was less than ten feet, but it felt like light years between them, and Louis had to lessen the distance.

 

“Can I...can I kiss you?” he stepped closer, hopping over the slippery bottle of dish soap on the floor, not once breaking eye contact as he seemed to float across the room. Harry wasn't moving away but he didn't respond either, leaving his plump lips waiting patiently for Louis as the gap between their faces closed. Their kiss only lasted a minute, but it felt like forever, a forever Louis never wanted to end. Sparks were going off at every nerve ending! Is this boy even real? Harry's breath smelled like the red wine they shared at dinner, and his upper lip was much softer than the bottom one he was always biting, and he was kissing back like he wanted it just as much, and it was...perfect, Louis couldn't believe any of this was real, he couldn't even move his arms to wrap them around the boy.

 

Eventually they needed to pull away for air, Louis’ lungs desperate for oxygen when his heart and mind only wanted one thing. Harry.

 

“Take one with me.”

 

_**Fast. Too fast. So hot though, too fast.** _

 

Louis had his shirt off and pants unfastened before they reached the bathroom. Harry led the way and closed the door quietly behind them. He immediately shuffled over to the corner of the room, undoing his belt on the way.

 

“Harry?” Louis called for him, wondering why the boy was so shy all of a sudden. “Wanna see you, love.”

 

Harry turned around slowly, dropping his pants to the floor, legs smooth and pale against tight black cotton boxer briefs. He looked hesitant, nervous to step out of the shadow but too scared to say no. Louis let out a quiet sigh. He knew something was up with the boy all evening; he didn't want to do this, the magical kiss was too good to be true. Louis knew it. Harry didn't want to do anything with him, he wasn’t a big strong guy like Harry’s ex, no; he was just a weak little faggot, not the kind of guy Harry wanted.

 

“Left for hot,” Harry's soft voice shook Louis from his negative thoughts. “The shower,” Harry pointed at the walk-in stall behind Louis, and announced shyly, “I'm gonna get naked now.”

 

Louis fishmouthed a few times before nodding, absolutely on board with that idea. He turned around in a flash before Harry could see the embarrassing massive grin on his face as he twisted on the tap. _Harry wants this too! Yes!_

 

He finished undressing, all the while peeking up at Harry every now again as the boy peeled every article of clothing off his body at snail's pace. It was taking ages, and Louis was already naked before Harry got his shirt off, casually squeezing his cock which was half hard from just watching the boy strip. A refreshing mist of steam was starting to fill the small room, and the whole space was thick with sexual tension.

 

After Harry's underwear hit the floor, his green eyes were on him, scanning Louis’ naked body from head to toe; no other man had ever seen him naked, so he wasn't sure what to think, but apparently Harry liked what he saw because his own dick was fattening up against his thigh, eyes dark and lust-filled even in the shadow. Louis never asked, but he prayed Harry was a bottom, especially after seeing the size of his manhood. Who was Louis kidding? The doe-eyed teen in front of him was definitely a bottom.

 

With their eyes still locked, Louis backed up into the shower, the hot spray pelting his shoulders like a waterfall. He wordlessly summoned Harry to join him with a hooked finger, and the boy didn't hesitate.

 

 

~ ● ~

 

 

“Lou? Are we...do you want to…?”

 

Louis pulled his mouth away from Harry’s chest and stood up straight so he was leaning over the other boy, no longer touching him but breathing heavily in his ear...he kind of needed a moment to breathe anyway.

 

“I do,” he whispered, “you?” He thought he already knew Harry’s answer if the precum leaking out the tip of his dick was any indication.

 

“Yes, yes,” Harry nodded breathlessly, wrapping his arms around Louis neck, as their lips clashed together under the spray. “Want you,” he mumbled into Louis’ open mouth, practically swallowing Louis’ tongue.

 

Their twin erections met between them making them both moan, and Louis took it upon himself to press Harry back against the hundreds of cooled water droplets covering the shower wall. Harry was moving fast, almost too fast, devouring Louis’ mouth and it was rather sloppy. If it were anyone else, Louis would have hated it, but for some reason it was great because it was Harry’s spit on his tongue, getting all over his mouth and chin, and he tasted like weed. Good weed too. This boy just kept getting better by the minute. Everything Harry was doing felt rushed, like he was racing to get somewhere. As confusing as it was, there wasn't much blood left in Louis’ brain, so he really couldn't think much about anything except making Harry feel good.

 

“Tell me what you want, babe. Please?” Louis asked while nipping at the pale skin of the boy’s neck. He was running his hands all over, getting familiar with the way Harry’s skin felt under his fingertips.

 

“You're great at that, I- I like that.”

 

He ran his hands up and down Harry's sides, his back, bum, and thighs, feeling the smooth skin ripple with goosebumps as he glides over random droplets. “What else, Hazza? Talk to me, what do you like?”

 

Harry was a stuttering mess, pupils blown and lust-filled. He was definitely having difficulty forming words. Louis had wanted to see the younger boy in that state since they met on Halloween; the curves of his naked body, the way his dark hair rests on his bare shoulders, and how erotic Harry’s little moans are when he's excited and can't form a proper sentence. He was making Harry feel this way, making sinful noises tumble from those delicious lips, he was making Harry hard. Then suddenly it hit Louis like a ton of bricks; he was naked, with a guy who's also naked, they were kissing, they were more than kissing. He was not supposed to be doing that, as much as be wanted to, he shouldn't...he couldn't.

 

Their lips parted with a wet smack, and Harry moaned again ever so softly. His eyes remained closed, leaning forward as if expecting to feel more of that pleasurable pressure on his lips at any moment. Louis wanted to feel it too, to feel Harry’s amazing mouth on his, and with such passion he had never felt before. He needed more, he needed Harry...Harry...boy, Harry. Boyboyboycockasscockcockass. No!

 

“I….I can't do this.”

 

He immediately regretted it as the words spilled passed his lips. Harry's eyes flashed open, face flushed red and wet from the shower. His gaze traveled right passed Louis and settled on the tile wall.

 

“Oh,” Harry said sadly, suddenly looking incredibly vulnerable and not at all comfortable. “Um, OK. It's OK.” He bit his lip, unwrapping his arms from Louis’ neck and bringing them down to cover himself. “M’sorry.”

 

Their bodies were drenched, and starting to shiver as the cold water droplets slid off their skin, and Harry’s eyes were cast down at the shower floor. All Louis could see was sadness and rejection on the boys face, clear as day, and there he was apologizing for his problem? What? Louis knew then he never wanted to see Harry sad, or ever be the cause of his sadness.

 

“Harry, it's not your fault. Really.”

 

Louis brought a hand up to comb back his soaked hair and cocked his head to side just a bit so he could see more of the boy's pale face. He still wouldn't look Louis in the eye. The mood was awkward, like they accidentally walked in on each other like that, and neither of them knew what to do or say next.

 

Damnit. He wanted this, Harry wanted his, so what was the problem? Fuck self doubt, fuck everyone who has ever called him names or hurt him for wanting to love and to be loved; Harry told him he just wants to be loved for who he is too. He could be himself with Harry...finally he could be himself.

 

Pushing all negative thoughts aside, pulse racing like mad, Louis closed his eyes and lunged forward to bring a hand to Harry’s chin; connecting their lips once more in a deep, wet kiss.

 

“I want you too, so much,” he moaned into Harry's open mouth between words, “wanna make you feel good, you deserve it, the best. You make me so...so…”

 

He stopped talking for a moment to pull back and check Harry’s state. The younger boy looked turned on again, granted a bit surprised, but just as caught up in all of the passion as was Louis. He let go of Harry's face to turn off the shower and grab the boy by the wrist.

 

“Bed now, please.”

 

Harry didn't protest, in fact, he stepped out of the shower so fast, he nearly pulled Louis down to his knees onto the wet tile. He couldn't stop smiling as Harry dashed across the room to fetch them both a clean towel from the cupboard. The boy was fit as hell, and adorable at the same time, the combination will never get old, Louis thought. They dried themselves off quickly, staring at each other the whole time. They barely caught their breaths before meeting in the middle of the room for another messy kiss.

 

“Do you have a...um…?” Harry asked so quietly and politely, Louis had to bite back a chuckle.

 

“Yes, we're good.” He slid a few condoms into his pocket before leaving the apartment, so he quickly let Harry go from his arms to find his jacket, nodding reassuringly at Harry before gathering the rest of their clothes off the floor. He took one more look at the panting boy behind him before opening the door for him to lead the way.

 

They were a stumbling, kissing mess all the way to the last door on the right. Louis nearly kicked Niall’s bedroom door in as they rushed passed, naked limbs moving awkwardly around their pile of clothes. Once they got inside of Harry's bedroom, Louis was quick to close the door, and got right back to attacking Harry’s red swollen lips in the darkness.

 

“Mmmm Lou,” it was a long, deep moan that made Louis’ dick twitch repeatedly. He needed to touch more, he needed to taste every inch of Harry’s skin, and he wanted to see it. His mind was spinning with all the things he wanted to do to the beautiful boy in front of him when he felt a warm hand wrap loosely around his length making him shudder with pleasure. Hot wet lips suctioned onto his neck and began to nibble at the sweet spot below his ear. It were as if Harry knew exactly where he liked being touched; he was reading Louis’ body like a map, and that, was just his mouth...Harry's hand tightened just enough to create some friction, making Louis’ head fall back therefore exposing more neck for Harry to lick and nibble with sharp teeth. Louis was losing himself in how good everything felt, then he remembered he had promised to make Harry feel good. That will make him feel even better.

 

“Babe...Hazza,” he panted between nips at Harry’s chin. “Lights.”

 

He felt Harry nod against his shoulder and move to the left slightly. With a click, the room is lit by a dim desk lamp. Now able to see, Louis rips open the condom package he had been holding this whole time, and passed it to Harry. The boy blinked blankly at the wet foil before looking up at him with a questioning look.

 

Louis chuckled, “put it on me, Harry”

 

Harry's eyes went wide with understanding, and then he was rolling the sheath over Louis’ rock hard length. Before long they were on the bed, Harry's sweet-smelling bed sheets ruffled nicely around his head to create a downy halo, and Louis was stunned at how beautiful he looked; so innocent, and shy, and nervous...or scared? Was he scared? 

 

“Hazza?” he whispered into the narrow space between them. “You OK?”

 

“Yeah, yeah...yes. m’OK. I want this.”

 

“You're sure?”

 

“Yes,” Harry nodded again, this time with a small smile. “Thank you.”

 

Louis sat back on his heels and raised his eyebrows at the boy. “What?” He asked quietly, trying not to sound as confused as he really was.

 

“For asking,” Harry clarified, grin growing larger by the second.

 

Louis knew for sure then that what they were doing was right. Nothing had ever felt so right. Not wanting to waste another second, Louis scooted back on the bed, keeping an eye on Harry's face the entire time. He didn't need to ask for lube as Harry was waving a small label-less tube in front of his face.

 

“Thank, love,” Louis leaned down to plant a wet kiss to the side of Harry’s kneecap. His legs were smooth, like he shaved them, and it was incredibly sexy. It was surreal being that close...in the shower, Louis could barely see through the water and steam, and then...his face was inches away from Harry’s naked crotch.

 

Focus, he reminded himself before getting too lost in thought, the weed started to take effect while they were getting in the shower, and it was making his mind wander a bit with all the excitement. Harry was starting to writhe on his back, he had been waiting so patiently for Louis to get moving and open him up. He got two fingers wet with lube, and then told Harry, in a caring tone, exactly what he was going to do next. 

 

~ ● ~

 

“Oh fuck,” Louis grunted absolutely losing himself in the tight heat. He was always been skeptical about how good it will feel to bury himself in an asshole, but now he knows, for absolute certain, Harry was made for his dick.

 

“Lou!” Harry moaned loudly, fingernails digging into Louis’ back. The boy looked tranced out, absolutely wrecked as Louis slid in and out of him nice and slow. One fist pumped Harry’s cock while the other pressed hard into the headboard above them for leverage. The sweet words being whispered in his ear helped push him over the edge. “Gonna, I'm gonna-”

 

~ ● ~ 

 

Harry woke up to the distant sound of Niall swearing and loudly banging drawers and things in the kitchen. His sleepy eyes peeled open slowly; he was in his bed, alone, tangled up in his navy blue comforter. Everything looked the same, but something was different, he felt different.

 

“Morning, Harry.”

 

He wiped the sleep from his eyes, trying to adjust to the light so he could confirm the stunning older man sitting on the end of his bed in just his underwear was indeed real. "Louis?"

 

“Hi,” his calm voice was so soft, like Harry’s favorite sweater. His feathery brown hair resembled a birds nest, Harry had never seen anyone look so sexy after they've woken up. Louis kept smiling at him, sitting there like a sleepy hedgehog, and it made Harry happy. So freaking happy.

 

“How are you feeling?” Louis asked, resting a hand on Harry's covered calf. The light touch sent pleasurable tingles up the boy's leg, straight through his spine. He thought for a moment, a really long moment. How did he feel? He was happy, definitely happy, and he didn't remember having any nightmares, and he didn't cry during the night, otherwise Louis would have known.

 

“I actually slept. Lou…” he turns to the man who made him feel like the center of his universe, “you made them stop. You made them stop.”

 

Louis turned his body to face Harry then, lifting one leg onto the mattress and tucking it under his bum. “Made what stop, Babe?”

 

They locked eyes, and Harry felt like he just let slip a huge secret. With Louis’ eyes still fixed on him, he reluctantly shifted up in the bed so they could talk face to face.

 

“After, um, Sam,” Harry visibly shuttered as he said his ex-boyfriend name, “I had bad dreams at lot. Like every night.”

 

“And you didn't have one last night? Louis asked, voice laced with concerned. This Sam guy must have been worse than Harry let on.

 

“No,” the boy breathed out in disbelief. "I just slept."

 

Louis moved a bit closer, wrapping an arm around Harry’s shoulder. “Why do you think that is?”

 

“I dunno," he let Louis get closer, and eventually they were kissing, hands roaming all over each other once again. "I think it's because of  _ **you**_.”

 

 ~ ● ~

 

_***Present Day*** _

 

The day is finally here, Harry is officially moving in with Louis. Over the passed two weeks, he, Louis and Niall have been taking random things over the Louis' after work and on their days off. He has been successfully avoiding Liam at work as much as possible, because until he can be honest with Louis about everything,  he really can't talk to Liam about it, or anything else. He is convinced Louis is jealous or _something_ , because he hasn't spoken much to Liam lately and hasn't been paying much attention to what Harry tells him about work. Apparently Louis has been so busy with his own job and preparing for Harry to move in, he hasn't even mentioned that awkward night and that they still need to have their talk. Harry was cool with conveniently forgetting about it too, but now he is seriously regretting it.

 

"Oh god."  

 

He stands in the bathroom mirror, hands gripping the sink so tightly his knuckles are nearly the same off-white as the porcelain. This sudden nausea has got to be nerves and stress. It's been a hectic two weeks what with packing, and preparing. He hasn't eaten since dinner last night, and it wasn't much, just a burrito Niall brought home for him around 7pm. He couldn't even finish his glass of wine before passing out in front of the telly (poor Niall had to wake him up and drag him to bed).

 

He steps back slowly from the sink and sits down on the closed toilet lid, forcing himself to focus on the square tile between his feet. The buzzing light fixture above is getting louder, his mouth is dry, and his stomach is doing somersaults. _Deep breaths, deep breaths, it will pass._  He needs to focus on something to keep distracted, anything, before he has a panic attack. He hasn't had one in months, and no nightmares either. 

 

He can't deny being nervous about this move, them living together, the fact that he has to tell Louis the truth before its too late. He really does love Louis, and has been so supportive as to keep their relationship a secret from their families. Now he's not sure for how much longer they’ll be able to keep things a secret. The only people who know are Niall and Liam, not even his mother knows the they are more than friends. He hates lying to her, especially after everything they went through last year; Anne finally trusts him again, and he can't afford to mess that up. He would love to take Louis home to his family because he knows they would adore him and absolutely approve of them dating.

 

Louis has explained to him many times that he’s not keeping their relationship a secret because he’s ashamed of him or anything, but because he’s scared it will change things with his family, at work, and well, everything; he's not ready yet, but he'll get there soon. Despite having to keep up the charade, Harry sees them moving in together as a step towards this. He's always reassuring Louis that his mum loves him unconditionally and he shouldn’t be scared of her reaction. 

 

Harry doesn't realize he's been crying while lost deep in thought until a teardrop falls on his hand which somehow spread protectively across his stomach. He blinks the rest of the tears back rapidly and exhales a shaky breath.

 

“Oh no...no no no,” his eyes squeeze shut and he twists the cotton the shirt in his clammy fist. “S’not happening. Not today….” he gets up off the toilet and immediately his thin legs wobble like Bambi’s. “Jesus christ,” he whines desperately before steadying himself and taking a few deep breaths.

 

Once collected, he bends down to pick up the last box of bathroom items and suddenly gets a head rush. He plops down on the toilet lid again with a thud. He needs to think of something, anything to distract himself. His mind won't settle on anything pleasant, too busy racing like mad through every wrongdoing and every negative emotion all at once. And then an image of his ex-boyfriend flashes in his mind; he doesn't want to think about him, but can't seem to stop. 

 

“Harry!? Ya still moving today or what!?” 

 

“Just a minute, Ni!” Harry grips the box tighter and hauls himself off the toilet. He checks himself over in the mirror one last time before taking slow steps out of the bathroom. This is it, he's leaving his best friend, he's going to miss this place, he's going to miss having his best friend around all the time...he's moving out, and _oh shit_ apparently is last night's burrito.

 

In a moment of panic, Harry drops the box of toiletries in the middle of the hallway and claps both hands over his mouth before anything can come out. There’s no holding it in anymore.

 

He dashes back to the bathroom and doesn't waste time closing the door. A shampoo bottle had rolled out of the box just far enough for Harrys foot to land on it, and the boy stumbles towards the sink. Luckily he doesn't fall, and in seconds he's down on his knees, stomach heaving as his entire body lurches over the porcelain bowl.

 

The sounds are god awful; the last time he threw up this much stomach acid, he was thirteen years old and ill with the flu, however, he has never experienced projectile vomiting before, even while pregnant.

 

After a good three minutes of painful muscle contractions and acid burning his throat like fire, Harry feels completely empty. Now, he can choose between passing out right here on the floor or he can get his shit together and attempt standing. He opts for sitting back on his heels and punching the wall behind the door instead. Why didn't he just talk with Louis? He punches the wall again with more force and immediately regrets it; he's already packed the bandages.

 

After realizing that he might actually be living his worst nightmare, he could give two shits if he walks out to the car with a few bloody knuckles and plaster dust-laden tear tracks down his cheeks; this day can simply go fuck itself. And if Louis tries asking him what's wrong, he's going to lie and say he's just a klutz, and everything is fine, because it is. Everything is just fine. Louis doesn't want children, he said so, and that's fine, because Harry's definitely not pregnant. Everything is **fine**.

 

 

~ ● ~

 

 

It doesn't take the four friends long to unload the last of Harry's lightweight boxes into the flat, but Liam has a lot more furniture and unfortunately, all of them had to carry heavy items out to the van Liam’s parents had kindly rented him for the day. Niall can see Harry is not feeling well, not only by his pale complexion but also by how often he's been throwing up thus week and not eating. His friend has claimed stress and nerves, but Niall isn't dumb. He only hopes that Louis will take good care of his best friend, and not break the boy's fragile heart; he's been through way too much already and deserves only the best.

 

“What's happening with your bed, Li?” Louis’ head pokes out from the back of the small moving van now three quarters full of Liam’s stuff.

 

“He's taking mine. I told you, like five times already,” Harry grumbles while struggling to keep a grip on Liam’s heavily varnished desk; the ultra smooth surface is slipping from Harry's hands and obviously Louis is not paying attention. His stomach has settled a little since emptying itself earlier but now everyone and everything is pissing him off. The last time he felt this angry and nauseated was over a year ago. Nope! Everything is fine.

 

“Woah,” Niall steps forward to help Harry lift his end of the desk up and over the lip of the van with no real assistance from Louis. He raises an eyebrow at the Donny lad who is moving at double-speed as if he can't get everyone out of his hair fast enough. And then there's Harry, who looks to be done with the lot of them.

 

“What are you yelling about _now_?” Liam emerges from around the corner with the last stack of boxes.

 

“Your bed, mate. Where is it going?” Louis queries with a bit of sass. He makes an exaggerated arm motion at the limited available space in the back of the van before hopping down. It's only a two foot jump, but the adorable way he bends his knees and bites his lip in preparation to jump makes Harry and Niall burst out laughing. Liam sees _the jump_ too, and chuckles amusedly, but manages to keep a straight face when he informs Louis, again, that Harry left his bed in his old room specifically for him to use; the mattress is less than a year old and it wasn't cheap.

 

“He didn't hear me when I told him either, Li,” Harry says with the cheeriest voice he's had all day; he and Niall still giggling away at Louis’ expense.

 

“Oh yeah. Right,” Louis shakes his head and rolls his eyes out of sight of his friends.

 

“Well whatever, it needs to go,” Harry takes a few steps closer to Liam, ignoring Niall's look, “your room is becoming my office and I've got to start setting up in there tomorrow.”

 

“Right,” Liam nods in agreement. “Thanks again, Harry,” he reaches out for the younger boy, and Harry instantly curls into Liam’s arms. Meanwhile, Niall and Louis make obnoxious gagging noises as the two friends hug. 

 

“How about donating it?” Niall suggests once his laughing had subsided.

 

“Dump it,” Louis hollers, “it reeks of cheap cologne and lonely nights.” Everyone laughs this time, and Liam let's go of Harry to give his best mate the middle finger.

 

“That's probably the best option really,” Liam admits, stepping away from Harry and running a hand through his hair. “Let's get it in the van.” He looks to Niall, who rolls his eyes with an exaggerated sigh, and takes off dramatically for the front door. Harry shoots him a dopey grin before before turning on his heels to follow Niall.

 

When Harry disappears inside, Liam promptly turns to Louis, “What did you do?”

 

Louis’ eyes go wide and he looks at his friend offended. “What?”

 

Liam is giving him a disappointed look and he has no idea why. “He's obviously upset today.”

 

“Who? Harry?” Louis pushes off of the van and moves to stand on the other side of Liam; his back facing the building.

 

Liam simply nods, looking ready to join up with the other two inside, however, Louis is not finished with this conversation.

 

“I didn't do anything,” Louis spits angrily. “If he's upset about something, he hasn't told me.”

 

"Well he's been avoiding me all week, so I had to ask."

 

Suddenly Niall blonde head pokes out the front door. “Wanker! Come get your bed!”

 

With that, Liam gives him a pat on the back and jogs away leaving Louis standing there alone beside the van. A minute later, Liam and Niall come out carrying the old mattress, and Harry isn't far behind, carelessly dragging pieces of the dismantled platform bed frame down the concrete steps.

 

“Just toss it in,” Liam instructs as they approach the van.

 

Louis is standing by Harry's car now just looking on as his boyfriend flings the metal pieces into the moving van. He was enjoying the cool shade over by the van but felt he would just be in the way. Now the sun glaring down on him is too warm and he's getting antsy; everyone needs to go, except for Harry of course. He continues to stand there doing nothing as Niall closes up the back of the vehicle and his two friends come over to say goodbye. Harry shuffles along soon after with both arms wrapped tightly around his middle, looking awfully distracted standing there close behind Niall.

 

“Dunno if I'll be able to sleep tonight,” Liam’s soft voice brings Louis out of his thoughts.

 

He has to smile at that, he loves his best friend, truly he does. Without hesitation, he engulfs Liam in a tight hug. There's a lot Louis wants to say, but it's all too sappy to say in front of everyone else. He's going to miss living with his best friend...seriously been the best years of his life.

 

“C’mon, lads, we're not saying goodbye _forever_.” Niall chuckles, pretending to pry Liam away from Louis’ vice grip. The blonde lad turns to Harry who is looking a little teary watching his boyfriend and best friend hug. "Time to go."

 

 

~ ● ~

 

 

Louis had been keeping a close eye on Harry after the other lads left. He did notice the boy behaving a bit off this morning, but not enough to call him up on it. He seems to be in a much better mood now, thankfully, after taking an hour nap and a long hot shower.

 

For some reason though, Louis can't settle down; his mind wants to relax, but his body is restless. Fed up with sitting around staring at boxes, he decides to get off the couch and do something. On his way to the bedroom, he takes a peek into Liam’s old room. He promised Harry the entire room to himself since number one, he doesn't really need an office space and two, it's ideal for Harry to have a private room to go to whenever he needs space. There's no lock on the door anymore though; Louis made sure of that last night before Liam arrived home to fight him on it. Call him paranoid, but he doesn't want Harry locking himself in there. Now there's a simple lock-less doorknob Harry won't even notice has changed.

 

“Oh hey, babe,” Harry greets him with a big smile as he enters their bedroom. Oh wow, its officially their bedroom now.

 

Harry is draping a scarf over one of the bedside table lamps, changing the soft yellow light to a lovely purple hue as Louis steps further into the room. Harry looks wonderful, and so happy. He hasn't been this cheery in days. The teen’s aura is a complete contrast to what it was just a few hours ago.

 

Louis is just happy that Harry is happy, so he won't risk spoiling the good mood by dredging up what Liam said about Harry earlier. He can't help point out what he's noticed, however.

 

“Having fun? You've been busy,” he smiles at the boy whose head is buried deep in a box on the floor. It looks like a lot has been unpacked in just under an hour. Cardboard boxes and packing paper are stacked neatly on the carpet at the foot of the bed, and most of Harry’s clothes are hanging in the open closet.

 

“I'm glad you're happy, babe.” Louis continues to look on fondly, admiring Harry's persistence with such a boring task.

 

He clears a spot near the edge of the bed and settles in between more packing paper and a small pile of trinkets. Something shiny underneath the paper catches his eye, so he casually pushes some of it aside to reveal a glittery metal lunchbox. It reminds him of one his younger sister, Lottie had when she was little.

 

“Gimme.” Louis looks up to see Harry making grabby hands at him. “I _am_ happy.”

 

Without hesitation, Louis passes him the glittery box. Harry's eyes are clearer and brighter and he has more color back in his face, giving his skin a nice glow.

 

“I love you.” It's not what Louis was planning on saying next, but the words came out anyway.

 

“Love you too,” a rush of pink spreads across Harry's cheeks and it's beautiful the way he’s all shy now with Louis’ eyes on him.

 

“Chinese tonight?” Louis asks, still fonding hard at his boy.

 

Harry leans down and plants a soft kiss to Louis’ cheek. “Sounds wonderful. Will you order, please? Thank you.”

 

Louis nods as he stands, then watches as Harry disappears into the closet with his lunchbox and a grin.

 

Louis retreated to the kitchen to order their dinner while Harry continued unpacking in the bedroom. Just as he stuffs the last of the paper into a large trash bag, Harry's phone beeps. It's a text from Niall.

 

_Niall: wtf happened!!? Did u start a fight club this morning!? The fuck?_

_H: Sry! I'll come back tomorrow to help u guys clean_

_Niall: Help us??? This one's on u m8._

_H: sry 😕_

_Niall: doing OK over there, little one?_

 

Harry rereads Niall’s text. He could suddenly punch something again.

 

_H: don't call me that_

_Niall: 😢_

_H: gnite Nigel._

_Niall: love u too_

 

 

~ ● ~

 

 

“Oh my god, Harry, you remember this?”

 

Harry stops rifling through an unlabeled box to check out what his boyfriend has found. He's holding up a black collar belonging to last year’s Halloween costume. Harry definitely remembers that night, it turned out to be one of the best nights of his life. He sets the box down on the sofa and joins Louis over by the stereo. They weren't looking for anything in particular, just hanging out in the living room after dinner, rummaging through a few boxes Harry forgot to label, listening to music and having a laugh. His belly was bit tender, but he was able to ignore it thanks to Louis' amusing distractions.

 

Once Harry is in front of him, Louis turns his boyfriend around and sweeps a few wispy curls aside. A smile breaks out on Harry's face, knowing full well what Louis is doing. He lets his boyfriend wrap the collar around his neck and clasp it closed in the back. Harry’s fingers reach up to touch where the satin meets the skin at his Adam’s apple, both skin and fabric smooth and warm. Ever since Louis became his _Daddy_ , he's loved the attention; the feeling he gets with Louis is miles beyond anything he's experienced before. He loves being Louis' baby, his princess, his kitty.

 

Satisfied with his work, Louis leaves a wet kiss on Harry’s neck right above the silver clasp, making the slightly taller boy's knees bend just enough for Louis to see the top of his head.

 

“My sexy kitty,” Louis hums into Harry's shoulder, a warm patch of skin peeking through a hole in the black tshirt. His tongue finds it and darts out to have a playful lick.

 

“Mmm,” Harry moans and leans back into Louis’ hold. “Best Halloween ever.”

 

“What ya think about heading to bed?” His fingers can't stop themselves from teasing the waistband of Harry's jeans.

 

“M’not sleepy yet, Lou,” Harry is still moaning a little as Louis’ teasing continues.

 

“I wasn't planning on us sleeping anytime soon,” he snaps the waistband of Harry's underwear before taking a step back. Harry whines a little at the loss of contact and turns to face him with a pout.

 

“Come with me, Baby,” Louis orders, hooking a finger and signaling for Harry to follow. “And leave that on,” he points to the collar nice and snug on Harry's neck, making the younger boy nod enthusiastically. “S’fuckin’ hot.”

 

~ ● ~

 

“Lou,” Harry moans, hands running up and down Louis’ thigh while the older boy continues stroking his hardening pick, “can I umm…”

 

“What is it, love?” Louis’ hand slows, making Harry jerk up into the loose fist. 

 

“Iwannatopyou.”

 

Now Louis’ hand stops moving all together and Harry lets out a helpless whimper.

 

“Say again, slowly.”

 

“I,” Harry mumbles into the crook of his arm.

 

“Ok.”

 

“Wanna.”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Topyou.”

 

If it weren't for Harry being so timid and serious right now, Louis would crack up laughing. He bites his lip to contain his laughter and gets serious; he silently entertains the thought of Harry fucking him for a moment.

 

“Maybe.” He finally answers after a full 30 seconds of contemplation.

 

"Harry moves his arm and stares blankly up at Louis from his sprawled out position on the bed, black collar still snug on his neck; his eyes turn from lust-blown to sad in a flash, and with a sigh, he pulls away from Louis and rolls off the bed.

 

“Maybe means no.” He trudges across the room to retrieve the Maine tourism book he's been reading lately.

 

“Maybe means I’ll think about it,” Louis reasons. He had reached out to grab Harry but the boy was too fast.

 

It’s not that Louis doesn’t want to experience a cock up his arse...yeah, no, he doesn’t really. He hasn't felt comfortable being on the receiving end, not yet anyway. He watches Harry saunter back over to the bed with book in hand. The tempting boy sucks in his bottom lip and crawls back over towards Louis. He just knows his boyfriend is not going to fall asleep without doing _something_ to him first.

 

“One day, babe. I promise.”

 

Without another word, Harry hooks his fingers under Louis shorts and pulls them down, tossing them across the room to lay somewhere amongst all the other dirty laundry. He slaps Louis’ thigh lightly, signaling the older boy to lift his bum. Louis obliges, grinning madly as Harry settles between his bent legs. Harry’s on his stomach, face inches from his balls. Louis can feel his hot breath and his dick twitches with excitement. He's waiting to feel Harry's wet mouth but it's taking forever... _is he just admiring the view?_

 

"Harry?...Hazza?" He glances down and sees his half-hard cock resting on top of Harry's messy curls. "Hello?" With a fond sigh, he shifts up onto his elbows to get a better look at the boy now snoring between his legs. "Oh, Baby. Just sleep."

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now that this chapter is out of the way, I am so freaking excited to share the rest with you guys...all the jealousy, angst and hilarious parts coming up... it's gonna be fun!


	5. I Feel A Jackson Pollock Coming On

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Having a baby could be a deal breaker, and he doesn't want to lose the only man who has ever truly loved him; the man who he loves so fucking much, it physically hurts every time they stare into each other's souls, because all he can think about is holding an infant with those same sparkling blue eyes. Unfortunately, that's not what Louis wants at all._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My sincerest apologies for the long wait! I'm back online, finally, and should be posting regularly again. YAY! 
> 
> *** Be aware that there are WARNINGS/TRIGGERS for this story, including but not limited to: panic attacks, physical domestic and verbal abuse, miscarriage, and reference to abortion and rape. There may be more important warnings for future chapters, so **please always read the authors notes. Thank you!**

 

 

"You know I was joking when I said you had to come back and clean this up," Niall rolls his eyes behind Harry's back as the younger boy dumps the last bit of swept-up plaster dust into the bin. Harry had arrived at his doorstep, completely unannounced, at 7:30AM (on a Sunday no less). Niall just happened to be awake and on his way to grab a snack to take back to bed when he heard a familiar set of keys jingling in the deadbolt lock. The boy looked exhausted, but he waltzed right on in with a big grin plastered on his face; one Niall could spot right away as a total fake.

 

"Wasn't too bad." Harry smiles proudly at the freshly swept corner of the bathroom, and gives his best friend a pat on the back with the bruised-knuckle hand responsible for making the mess in the first place. "Was my fault anyway. Sorry. I needed to get out of the flat for a bit...thanks for letting me in so early."

 

He really did need to get away from Louis for a while to clear his head; he's so embarrassed after passing out last night and for getting upset. He didn't want to be there when Louis woke up, so he left a simple note on the kitchen counter next to the tea, saying he was going to run a few errands and _maybe_ stop by Niall's on the way home.

 

Niall's face falls instantly at his friend's words; he can tell Harry isn't feeling well, he's seen this guilty sick look before. He _**knows**_ the boy still hasn't told Louis about being a carrier, and there's been some obvious tension between the three of his closest friends; yesterday was awkward, and Liam barely talked the rest of the day, even when the unloading of the moving van was done and the two of them had time to just hang out and relax. They all seem to be at odds with each other, and Niall isn't sure why.

 

He takes the broom and dust pan from Harry's hands to set them back in the hall closet, and by the time the pair get to the living room, Niall can't hold it in anymore, he has to get to the bottom of what's really been going on with his best friend. He stops at the edge of the oval braided rug, watching as Harry sits down carefully on one of the plush cushions. He is reminded then of that uncomfortable moment when Harry revealed he just had an abortion; his posture, the way Harry was on the verge of crying the entire time. Niall's seeing that look again, he should have called an intervention weeks ago because the boy has clearly stopped getting better emotionally, mentally, he's a mess.

 

"Everything good between you and Louis?"

 

Harry's curls bounce as his head whips around. "Yes. We're fine. Why?" What a dumb question. Louis is wonderful. Sure he was a little distracted and rude to everyone yesterday, and he thought it was OK to talk to Liam about their sex life, and he used the wrong lube once, but still, Louis is the best boyfriend ever; exactly why Harry is afraid to upset or disappoint him. Having a baby could be a deal breaker, and he doesn't want to lose the only man who has ever truly loved him; the man who he loves so fucking much, it physically hurts every time they stare into each other's souls, because all he can think about is holding an infant with those same sparkling blue eyes. Unfortunately, that's not what Louis wants at all.

 

Niall shrugs, taking a seat beside his friend who is once again lost deep in thought. "Then what's going on? Why can't you be honest with him about this?”

 

"About what?" Harry asks quietly, voice laced with pure innocence even though his palms are sweating again and his eyes can't settle on anything for more than a few seconds. He's gripping his black t-shirt in a tight fist, stretching the knit fabric taught across his nauseated stomach. He could most definitely puke right here, but he'd much rather go to the loo; but then he'd have to run passed Liam's room. He prays the man is at the gym...he can't recall whether or not Liam's car is outside, but he still goes to the gym early on the weekends, right?

 

That's it, Niall has officially had enough of watching Harry evade the question by stalling, sitting there pretending like he's not about to be sick all over their laps.

 

"That you're pregnant! Duh!” The frustrated Irishman shouts, and both boys are seriously shocked by the volume. “ _Aren't you_?" He makes an effort to whisper this time, staring intently into Harry's eyes, unsure if the boy is sniffling because his assumption is correct or he is terribly mistaken and just made things unbelievably worse. His voice gets loud again, "you're confusing me, and kind of scaring me too. What's going on? You're moodier than usual, you're stressing out about everything again. I've been around you long enough, Curly, I notice these things. But what scares me the most is that you've been ill, and feel like you can't talk with Lou about stuff. He loves you, Harry, you can tell him anything."

 

Niall stops talking to the floor long enough to catch Harry wiping at his face with the throw blanket draped over the back of the chair. He can't stand to see or hear his best friend cry anymore, it's too painful.

 

“What can I do to make this easier on you? Want me to tell him with you? I'm just trying to help, not make this more difficult. I care about you guys. That's all.”

 

 _Great, just great_ , Harry thinks as he rubs his reddening face. All hopes of having a normal day have flown out the window. "Stop pressuring me, please. You are not helping." His voice hitches as he inhales a little too deeply, and accidentally knocks a forearm into Niall's thigh with a spastic twitch. "That's not happening."

 

Niall just gives him a look that says _yeah that's bullshit;_ if Harry fails to convince his best friend, then there is absolutely no hope in leading Louis on for much longer.

 

“What?”

 

"You don't have to lie to me, Harry. How about taking a test right now...just to prove me wrong? Then I'll shut up about it. Won't say another word."

 

"M'not lying, Niall, and I don't have to take a stupid test," Harry huffs, tossing his arms up in the air.

 

"You know...if you are, you don't have to keep it. Just saying, you have a choice."

 

"Niall! Can we **_please_** not talk about this here?" Harry's glassy eyes dart all around the flat, at least the areas he can see from his spot in the room. He never wants to talk or even think about having another abortion; despite how fearful he is of telling Louis he can get pregnant, he is more frightened of going back to the clinic. "M'sorry. Just please stop talking...I don't want Liam knowing about anything before Louis does. You haven't told him, have you?"

 

Niall has to chuckle at that question; for months on end, Liam tried desperately to pry more information from him about what happened to Harry, and who was responsible; he just knew it was more than a bad breakup that brought the boy into their lives that night. Despite his friend's persistence, Niall never revealed the truth about Sam's abuse or Harry's rare gift, even after Louis and Harry got together. Still, Liam practically worships the ground the curly-haired lad walks on, and according to Niall, Liam would never go behind his back to Louis.

 

"No, I wouldn't do that, Curly. But if Li hasn't already figured it out for himself, I'm sure he won't be mad when you tell him. He'll probably think it's great!" 

 

"I dunno," Harry mumbles sadly, "he's too nice and would probably say it's fine even though he really thinks I'm a freak."

 

"You're not a freak! Are you serious? Wait, is  _that_ why you're so scared? You're worried about what _Liam_ thinks?”

 

“What?” Harry's brow furrows, he's genuinely confused. “No?"

 

"C'mon, what is really going on with you two?"

 

"Nothing," Harry frowns, "he said something to Lou the night he asked me to move in, remember? I don't know what Liam said but Louis didn't like it."

 

"They're best friends, was probably something that has nothing to do with you."

 

Harry can feel the walls closing in, the stress of the situation is becoming too much. Why couldn't he have just stayed in bed this morning? "Liam and I are supposed to be working together now and I can't even talk to Lou about it at all...he gets annoyed, like I'm talking about Liam too much or summat. I don't want to upset him more by bringing up this stuff...there's never a good time to-"

 

“Whoa whoa, wait..." Niall suddenly interrupts. His eyes go wide as he reclines in the seat; he's having an epiphany. “Oh my god, I can't believe I never saw this before, now it all makes sense. He's jealous, Harry.” Niall turns his upper body quickly to face his friend, “this is not good."

 

"Jealous of what? Who?" Harry dares to ask, he can feel the beads of sweat forming on his forehead; he had a jealous boyfriend once, and he lost Zayn because of him. He doesn't want to lose anyone else. He loves Liam, sure, but he's not  _in love_ with him. "Liam has never liked me that way."

 

"Riiiiight," Niall scoffs sarcastically. "I'm not blind, I've watched you two make heart eyes at each other for a year now. You think Louis hasn't noticed?"

 

The confused teen shakes his head. "What are you even talking about? Lou's been stressing about work, and has to take more time off to visit his mum this month, he's just stressed out. Says we can't afford all this time off but he has to do it anyway. He's not jealous," Harry retorts defiantly despite the queasiness in his gut; He knows what's been keeping him from being honest with his boyfriend, and it's not because Louis is jealous. Harry hauls in a deep breath, eyes squeezed tight, as he is about to be honest with someone for the first time in a very long time.

 

“Loudoesn'twantkids. _**That's**_ why I can't tell him about me. He'll freak out....prob-probably break up with me, he won't want me anymore," he stutters, fighting to get the heartbreaking words passed the growing lump in his throat. The weight lifting off Harry's hunched shoulders doesn't feel as good as he had hoped; he still feels terrible, and hearing the truth aloud only helps cement the fact that he has no clue how to be in a normal relationship, with proper communication and trust. All he does is ruin people's lives.  ** _He_ _should have stayed home, he's still a child._**

 

“Oh,” Niall's eyebrows can't go any higher, "I’m sorry, Curly, I didn't know that. Shit, this is beyond complicated...and if you really are pregnant now-"

 

Harry yells, completely enraged, “Stop saying that!"

 

"Look," Niall puts both hands up in defense, "I get the baby thing is something you and Louis need to sort out yourselves...but this _thing with Liam_ , that needs to be dealt with right now, before we go on our trip. Otherwise there's gonna be a fight, and I'm **_not_** carrying any of my friends home from America in body bags. Last thing we need is Lou thinking Liam is the other father or some shite."

 

"Oh my God," the younger boy buries his face in his hands. Unable to hold his emotions in any longer, a loud sob escapes his throat, body shaking like a leaf. He keeps saying he's not pregnant, and he's never cheated on Louis; why won't Niall believe him and shut the hell up!? "Gonna be sick..."

 

Both of them are made aware that their private conversation hasn't been completely private, when a loud cough comes from the dark hallway behind them.

 

"Oh balls..." Niall groans quietly, cringing with regret as he looks over the boy's shoulder.

 

Harry turns around slowly and is not at all pleased with what he sees; Liam emerges from the shadow looking the fittest Harry has ever seen him; dressed in brand new trainers, red joggers that rest low on his hips just below the white elastic of his underwear, and nothing else. A red Adidas gym bag to match is slung over a bare shoulder, and his hair is quiffed perfectly . The only unsettling thing about his appearance is the unreadable expression etched on his face.

 

" _Please_ tell us you heard none of that." The nervous Irish lad asks with eyes the size of  saucers.

 

Liam drops his gym bag on the wood floor with a soft, humorless laugh. His own glassy eyes are locked on Harry's frightened ones, and his mouth opens and closes several times but nothing comes out until he sees tears rolling down Harry's already wet, pink cheeks.

 

"I...don't know what to say." He keeps on staring into Harry's eyes, making five seconds feel like a lifetime. 

 

It's an endless staring contest the younger lad has to get away from before the room starts spinning and everything fades to black. Without any spatial awareness, or care, Harry bolts off the sofa like a flash of lightening.

 

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, oh my god,” he mumbles whilst marching forward, knocking Niall backwards onto the cushions. The startled lad lets out a surprised yelp as the wooden chair by the side table goes flying and Harry's clumsy legs stumble toward the front door. Something breakable falls over, but he doesn't stop for anyone or anything. He is desperate to escape the confines of the flat. His best friend won't stop talking, and Liam isn't saying anything.

 

"Harry, wait!"

 

"No!” He shouts over his shoulder while his sweaty hands struggle to grip the cold steel doorknob. “Both of you, leave me alone!"

 

" _Harry, it's_  alright...." Liam tries once more, briskly trailing after the boy toward the only exit. He catches only a glimpse of white wood move in his peripheral vision when he rounds the corner into the front hall. Harry was sure to slam the door as loud as possible, making the surrounding walls rumble from the aggressive force.

 

Once back on his feet, Niall rushes to the doorway before he can catch his breath. "Let him go. Just let him go.”

 

“ _Whatthefuck!?_ ” Liam breathes out exasperated and completely shaken. He storms back into the living room, ignoring Niall's own bewildered state, and begins pacing in front of the telly like he just drank two Red Bulls and the braided rug is his new favorite treadmill. All Niall can do is watch, head whipping left and right like he's at a tennis match.

 

Twenty agitated paces in, Liam stops dead in his tracks to look up at Niall with wide, scared eyes. "I should talk with him. He needs me right now."

 

"Uuugh Liam, no. OK? **_No_**. Why were you hiding out in the hallway? Are you fucking crazy?" Niall hisses as he rubs the sore spot on his calf from where the chair hit; a lumpy bruise has begun to form under the thin denim. He can't believe his best friend stormed out like that, and so violently too. Well, he can believe it, but Harry should have stayed here so the three of them could talk this out once and for all; give the boy the encouragement and support he needs.

 

"I found something and wanted to ask him about it but you two were out here talking and it sounded private...I heard my name. Like a lot."

 

In this moment, Niall finally feels what his best friend once described as a fist gripping your heart while you struggle to exhale; this isn't quite a panic attack, but it's pretty damn close. Suddenly overcome by worrisome thoughts of Harry speeding off to do something stupid and potentially dangerous, Niall forgets anyone else is there.

 

"For fuck sake, he was so close to admitting it! Now he's never going to...should have made him piss on that stick when he got here." Niall abandons pinching the bridge of his nose to slap both hands over his face in a lame attempt to shovel the last of his words back into his stupid, _**stupid**_ mouth. He emits a pained noise which only serves to make his accidental admission all the more incriminating. He tries to recover by bringing both shaking hands down away from his sweaty face to place them gently on the back of the sofa.

 

"So this _is_  his then?"

 

The bits of pulled threads on the throw blanket are safe for Niall to look at; they don't care about what he just said, unlike his flatmate who just dug deep into his red bag and is now holding up an unopened home pregnancy testing kit. The clear wrapping on the box catches the sunlight and reflects a beam across the room between them.

 

"I'm delirious! Just talking bullshit, don't listen to me." Niall shouts, slowly backing away from the sofa.

 

"Why won't you tell me anything!? **_I'm_** his friend too."

 

"Sorry. We can't talk about this. Sorry.” Before he can say another word, Niall successfully escapes the living room, leaving behind an obviously distressed Liam. _**Fuck**_. Good thing the boy wants nothing to do with them for a while...Harry is going to kill him!

 

 

**~ * ~**

 

 

 _ **"**_ _Stop it, you fucking liar. You **knew** this would happen, and you **knew** I didn't want this. If there's one thing your asshole-of- an-ex and I agree on, its that you're a waste of space...you lie, you manipulate, you **use**_ _people. Don't fucking cry now, Harry, you don't get to cry about this, pal. I can't even look at you. Just go. Go trick Liam into giving you babies, go be with someone else....fuck up their life, not mine."_

 

Like clockwork, Harry is woken up abruptly at 6:00am sharp by a full bladder and another bad dream. He has been working himself up to having this talk with Louis since last Sunday, and every night, he's had terrible nightmares about it...the awful things dream-Louis has said in these lucid dreams makes confessing even more difficult; the nasty words and rejection is all too real.

 

Ever since Harry came home from Niall's that day, Louis has been in a bad mood. He hasn't explained why he's upset, other than the usual stuff like money, work, their trip abroad, and supposedly it has nothing to do with Harry. Considering what Niall said about Louis being jealous, the nervous teen can't help but feel responsible for most of his boyfriend's aggravation. Every time he is about to sit Louis down and have "the talk" with him, the boy chickens out and escapes to his home office. So far, Louis hasn't said anything about it but he must be a little suspicious. Many nights Harry has stayed up late Googling every symptom, searching for any little thing he can use to prove to himself he is not pregnant this time; everything he is experiencing is all in his head. Louis might have used the wrong lube a few weeks ago but he wore a condom, right? He would have said so if he didn't. 

 

Normally on a mid-June morning, the flat would be fairly warm, enough to sleep comfortably without a blanket. Today, their bedroom is freezing, only intensifying the desperate need to pee. Something else is different though, his body doesn't feel right. Frightened emerald eyes flash open and immediately panic sets in; his limbs won't budge and there's an invisible boulder on his chest. He needs to pee, he needs to get up now!

 

There's water running somewhere, he can hear it, and he can clearly make out the tiny dents and divots in the ceiling above, yet nothing else is happening. "Uuuooeeeh," the frightened boy groans helplessly. He tries to speak, fighting against muscles that won't function; desperate to make a sound, any sound that will alert his boyfriend to this horrifying situation. His tongue happens to catch the roof of his mouth, but the 'L' sound never comes.

 

He can't even cry, nothing is happening and this powerless feeling is all too familiar: heart in his throat, stomach turning, the disturbing recovered memory of Sam and his two friends pinning him down when the drugs wore off and there were more men waiting for their turn to "breed the twink". For a moment, its like he's back in Sam's flat; he can feel the weight of his ex-boyfriend crushing several bruised ribs while pushing large hands into the swollen and incredibly sensitive spot above the base of his penis.

 

All Harry wants to do is wrap his arms around himself; he hates that he can't touch his abdomen or do anything to protect himself and the potential life inside; it's a panic-inducing desperation and helplessness Harry never wants to relive, yet here he is laying deathly still in complete silence, with only the haunting memory of Sam for company.

 

After a terrifying minute of complete paralysis, Harry's head rolls to the side on its own as the weight on the white pillows naturally causes them to shift. The blankets are pulled back and of course Louis is not there. **_This is most definitely still a nightmare, there is no way any of this is real_.** With his head now facing the doorway, Harry can see glimpses of black passing by the bedroom and a petite shadow cast on the open door leading to the hallway. The soft patter of socked feet fades away as they get closer to the kitchen on the opposite side of the flat. Louis is too far away now, he'll never see Harry lying there petrified, about to have a panic attack and piss the bed. The heaviness of his eyelids overpowers any will to keep them open, and they flutter closed effortlessly. It's still difficult to take in a full breath but maybe he will fall back asleep and when he wakes up, it will be like all of this never happened.

 

After another minute or so, the invisible weight on his chest miraculously begins to lighten. As he takes in what he thinks is going to be a short breath, Harry inhales so deeply he chokes on the fresh cold air invading his lungs. Throughout the coughing fit, he tries moving a few fingers, then his left leg twitches on its own, and there's an unwelcome warmth spreading over his hip, down around into the dip between the base of his spine and the light blue fitted sheet. **_No no no_** , he mentally scolds himself, tears building up in his eyes as they snap open and dart around the room.

 

By the time he regains use of his legs, he swiftly rolls over on the cold soaked sheets, backside wet with piss. He wasn't planning on showering this morning since he took one last night, but now he has no choice. He eventually rolls all the way off the bed, falling hard onto his knees. He can't help but yelp out in pain; his knees hurt, his lower back and pelvis hurt, every movement is uncomfortable and awkward, like he's got a balloon constantly inflating and deflating where his womb is supposed to be.

 

Luckily there's quite the commotion of draws and cabinets and things being slammed coming from the kitchen, it drowns out any sounds Harry makes as he crawls on hands and knees to the end of the bed. While he's down there, he expeditiously tugs out all four corners of the soiled bedding, pulling the wet cotton sheet along with him as he continues crawling over to the open door; the wood is unforgiving, but the rug is even worse.

 

By the time Harry reaches the door, his knees are bright pink, and those annoying stomach cramps are starting again. **_Have to fix this...have to fix this before Louis sees._** Louis is still making a lot of noise in the kitchen, probably rummaging through everything, pulling the room apart when he could just ask Harry; The boy already knows this place like the back of his hand, from the items in every draw, to all the squeaky floorboards.

 

Not wasting another second, Harry bolts out of the bedroom and across the hall into the empty bathroom. He shoves the blue sheet into the wash, and splashes a liberal amount of purple detergent on top before slamming the door shut. The effort it takes to turn the round knob to Bedding cycle is too much, his trembling fingers can't do it.

 

Totally overwhelmed, his naked body collapses against the machine like a rag doll, hot tears pour out like a waterfall from the defeated boy's tired eyes, his entire body shaking with a mix of fear and regret; Louis could hate him for this, for lying, for everything he really is. As far as Louis is concerned, he's just a normal guy with a “special spot” near his prostate; explaining  it's nothing weird, just a genetic rarity. Who is he kidding? Louis is absolutely going to hate him, leave him, and demand an abortion...if he really is pregnant. He wants to have a baby, Louis' baby...someday. If he wants children with anyone, it would be with Louis.

 

Will Louis ask how he feels about this, being a carrier, being pregnant? Will he even care? They're not married, not even engaged. Maybe Louis doesn’t want a family because he's not serious, he doesn't want to commit really. He dated women before...is he keeping Louis from having the life he truly wants? The life he's supposed to have, with a normal family? 

 

Neither of their mothers know yet the couple have moved in together, and Anne still hasn't met Louis. Maybe Harry will be known only as Louis' roommate forever, and their families will never know about them being together; even when Harry's toting around a baby that looks suspiciously like Louis. Then again, maybe he's not even pregnant and is just thinking about it so much he's experiencing the symptoms...it's all psychological, yeah. He still has to tell Louis he's a carrier though. _**Oh** **god**_.

 

After a good fifteen minutes of pacing frantically over the worn tiles in front of the washer, Harry makes his way to the toilet for another wee. With every step forward, he feels the blood pulsing behind his eyeballs; he just wants to keep them closed until he has to drive later. Louis must have gotten up _very_ early this morning, he thinks, inspecting the disgusting mess of shaving cream, bits of hair and toothpaste decorating the sink. Then Harry remembers several days ago Louis’ boss called a team meeting before opening today to introduce their two new summer hires. 

 

“Of course,” Harry grumbles to himself, a bit peeved that he has to rush in order to get his boyfriend to work extra early. Louis has been so wrapped up in work, money, and preparing for their trip abroad, he hasn't really been paying attention to anything else. Also, the twenty-five-year-old hasn't cleaned up after himself all week, like he just gave up the second Harry unpacked the last moving box. The mess in the sink didn't bother him at first, but the fragrance has upset Harry's gut; the minty toothpaste and heavily-perfumed shave gel is a noxious combination. Before he can do anything else, Harry is on his knees in front of the toilet in a flash, once again feeling the taunting burn rise from the hellish pit of his stomach. It's going to be a long day.

 

The walk from the bathroom to the kitchen feels at least a mile long. Each foot placement is strategically chosen, socked feet tip-toeing carefully on only the non-squeaky floorboards. It's a daunting task when he's tired, but Harry has had plenty experience creeping around silently in his own home. There's time to observe his surroundings as he travels through the narrow space; he mentally catalogs every small crack in the walls, random dust bunnies between the wide wooden floorboards, exactly ten mix-match picture frames lining the off-white walls. One ornate gold frame holds a treasured black and white photo of Louis and his mum, the next one is  a silver frame, the siblings all together at Christmas...when did Louis go to France, and who is that woman? The final and smallest photo of Louis framed in gold looks to have been taken at a big graduation celebration at the University. Did Louis graduate?

 

"Morning, Hazza."

 

Harry jumps, dropping his cell phone directly on to his foot. He hates this new habit of Louis greeting him before he enters the room; he's not even halfway there yet! With a soft grunt, Harry bends at the knees to retrieve the phone, going down was a lot easier than coming up. He would have been able to hide out in the hallway a bit longer if it weren't for the startling sound of blaring bells. _Fuck_ , it's the clinic calling. A few days ago, in a rare moment of courage, Harry had called to schedule an appointment for a blood test. They didn't have any openings for a while, so they must be calling early to confirm a time for later today . Before greeting whoever is on the other end of the phone, he covertly wipes the back of his left hand across his mouth one last time, just in case he missed a bit of sick.

 

“Hello?” He meant to answer in a firm voice that meant business but it came out sounding more like a squeaky, nondescript American accent; at least two octaves higher than his normal speaking voice.

 

Right on cue, Louis pokes his head out into the hallway and gives Harry a small smile before disappearing back into the kitchen.

 

With that, Harry takes the last few steps into the brightly lit room where his boyfriend is busy tapping away on his own phone while sipping his tea.

 

“Um, just a couple weeks, why?” Harry eyes Louis briefly, he's rummaging around in the closet now. Everything about his boyfriend's appearance is  _extra_...from his swept-back feathery fringe and closely-trimmed facial hair down to his cleanest pair of trainers. Someone is dressing to impress, and it's working wonderfully.

 

“No, not today." Harry turns away casually, maybe he can convince Louis he is speaking with Marc, or even Liam. “I don't need an appointment anymore. No, thank you. Bye.” Without hesitation, he hangs up and slides the phone across the counter, out of sight and on silent mode. "Hi, Lou,” he tries to sound enthused, but he’s too tired and annoyed to care about Louis' job quite honestly. “Today's the day..."

 

"Yeah,” Louis mutters distractedly, back to tapping at his own phone. “I'm trying to find my bag, have you seen it?"

 

"The blue one?” Harry skirts the counter to grab the steaming kettle off the stove before it whistles. “I may have used it to pack my stuff for the trip. Sorry.”

 

"S’alright. Just ask me first next time, I use that for work." Louis grumbles over his shoulder. He pulls Harry's neatly folded stack of paper bags out from the cupboard under the sink, sets one aside for his stuff, and then proceeds shove the rest of the stack back into the cupboard haphazardly. “Who was that calling so early?” He finally asks, shaking out the largest of the bags by its flimsy paper handles.

 

“Work,” Harry shrugs, “something about a vendor coming in to show us some new line of linens, but Marc decided to cancel since we already got a great deal with the same vendor from last year. Told them to call me, I guess. Not important." The lies come hurtling out of his mouth so fast he can't believe how convincing it all sounds. Too bad Louis is barely listening.

 

“That wanker...honestly...thinking it's OK for strangers to be calling _my_ boyfriend before eight in the bloody morning.You're due a significant raise after this trip…have you mentioned it to him yet? If not, you really need to, Harry otherwise it won't happen.” Louis continues to go on distractedly as Harry pours hot water over the tea bag in his oversize beige mug. He keeps telling Harry he needs to speak up more and stand up for himself, at work and just in general. He's tired of seeing the boy take on more and more responsibility and not get the credit nor the money he deserves. He doesn't want Harry to know that Liam has _already_ received a raise; the lad has only been there for a couple weeks. _**Fookin' ridiculous!**_

 

"I will, Lou. I said I will."

 

“You ready?” Louis peers up from his phone to look at Harry with raised eyebrows, totally ignorant to the fact that his boyfriend isn’t even dressed for the day yet. He's been awake since 5:30am and would really like to get to work with enough time to speak with his boss before the staff arrives. There's a chance one of them can't commit to the whole season, and so he needs time to figure out how to manage both sides of the store with just one new person in the party shop instead of two. Honestly, some days he seriously questions why he took this job six years ago; he enjoys it for sure but there is always some drama happening.

 

Harry's eyes widen, “I'm only wearing a t-shirt. Can I eat first, please?”

 

Louis begins packing the paper bag with his lunch, phone charger, Harry's dark grey hoodie, and a couple wholesale catalogs he took home to browse through over to be weekend. “Wouldn't you rather get something from the cafe? You'll have plenty of time. Besides, we only have bread left."

 

Feeling pressured, Harry wordlessly drops his teaspoon on the counter and walks over to the sink with the steaming mug. _A bite of toast would have been perfect, actually_. He watches sadly as the last of his favorite tea spins down the drain, much like his confidence fading away as the seconds pass. He needs to get dressed before Louis get stressed and even more impatient but he hasn't even showered yet and probably smells ripe. He doesn't want to upset Louis any more though so he better be quick. The older man is going to be furious soon enough.

 

 

~ ● ~

 

 

As they get settled in the car, Harry tries swaying the conversation toward something he can handle talking about without breaking down. His hair is still damp from washing it, and his silk shirt is sticking to his back where he couldn't reach to dry off properly. This is not a good way to start the day, nothing about today has been good, and it's only 6:50AM. His mind is all over the place, and he probably shouldn't be driving, but that's what he does; he cooks, he cleans, he drives, he keeps everything bottled up until one day it's all going to explode, and unfortunately, there is never a good time and place to do that. He needs to tell Louis in a calm and direct way, not while he's a blubbering, ugly mess. Louis seems to be preoccupied still, more focused on the day ahead than anything else.

 

“Here's to hoping they are better than last year's crew,” Harry tries to sound encouraging, happy even. “From what you told me, it sounds like you ended up doing everything."

 

Louis is quick to nod, "Yeah, well not this summer. I told Jim a hundred times that I'm not doing that again. Luckily, these two have retail experience, so yeah, fingers crossed I won't have to babysit.” He rummages through the paper bag for his cell phone, frowning when the time shows on the screen. “Was hoping to get there before seven...gonna be pushing it now."

 

“Sorry,” is all Harry can muster as he tries with all of his might not to burst into tears. **_He's going to hate you. He probably already hates you._**

 

Louis slumps back in the passenger seat, elbow resting on the door and a hand over his mouth; his fingertips casually brush the dark hairs along his freshly trimmed chin while deep in thought. “You should have seen this little girl the other day...did I tell you this? She rearranged the entire plush animal display by order of cuteness...penguins to llamas. Her mum had to take a photo and everything. Adorable.” He turns to Harry with a sparkle in his eye. “I left 'em that way so you can see tonight."

 

Harry can't believe his ears; it's been weeks since Louis has talked about any customer interactions specifically. How ironic it's about a child.

 

“What?” Louis scoffs playfully when he sees Harry's perplexed expression, “work can be boring, got to enjoy the fun moments.” He doesn't understand what's wrong with the boy this morning. Actually, Harry has been behaving strangely all week. Maybe it's all the recent and upcoming events, like moving, their upcoming trip...having to visit Louis' family in a few weeks. He needs to tell his mum soon that he and Harry are together, more than just flat mates and best friends. Then he can meet Anne and Gemma, and eventually he'll tell his boss and co-workers. With Harry by his side, Louis can do this; his mum will still love him...gay, straight it doesn't matter.

 

“It’s just, you say you don’t want children, yet you obviously love them. I mean, don't you want to have a family? Give your siblings some nieces and nephews?"

 

“Harry, selling toys and balloons and shit to their parents is one thing…having your own kid is completely different. Family is complicated. You know."

 

“OK…I just thought, I guess I don't understand _why_ you don't.”

 

“There’s nothing to understand, I just don’t anymore. I wanted to be a dad when I was growing up, but now I don’t. I thought we already discussed this," The older man groans, he's becoming increasingly annoyed. Now is not the time to talk about this, he just wanted to share a nice story, not start a serious conversation.

 

Harry slumps in his seat. "Yeah but not really. We talked about adoption and surrogates. I mean, what if you could, what if we-?”

 

“And we agreed no to both of those remember? Why are you so obsessed with babies all of a sudden? Is someone at work pregnant or something? Worry about driving right now, please." He happens to look over and notices Harry wiping his face every now and again. “You alright?”

 

“I'm fine.”

 

Louis is not convinced. "Why are you crying? Harry, c'mon...”

 

“M'not crying. M'just tired."

 

“You've been moody ever since you decided to roll out of bed. What is up with you today, Hazz?”

 

"Sorry,” Harry apologizes, “I couldn't get up." He side-eyes Louis, who is staring out the window again, watching other vehicles zoom past at high speed while they wait for their turn at the  busy intersection.

 

Louis chuckles, "And you fell asleep before I did." He turns around to lean over the center console, wanting to give Harry a quick peck on the cheek and help lighten the mood. To his surprise, the younger boy flinches, serious eyes fixed on the winding road ahead.

 

"No,” Harry shakes his head repeatedly, “I couldn't move my body."

 

Louis’ smile fades quickly; Harry's not joking around. He examines him for a moment, keeping silent on his side of the car, wondering if that's all that has happened to the boy recently. He tries desperately to remain calm. "Why didn’t you call for me?”

 

“I tried, but...I woke up real fast from a bad dream and...I was definitely awake but nothing worked. I couldn't speak and didn’t know what was happening.”

 

“Sorry, Hazza, I had no idea…” Louis marvels at the way Harry is still able to drive. If they weren't only a few blocks away, he'd tell Harry to pull over and _he'd_ drive. _Who needs a driver's license anyway?_ He reaches out to take hold of the boy’s left hand, but Harry retracts once again.

 

“Has this happened before? Ever? I think mum had sleep paralysis for a while. I can ask her about it.”

 

“No!” Harry doesn't mean to shout but it comes out as loud and as desperate as he feels. “No need to bother her about it. It's fine, Lou. Really. S’never happened before."  He catches Louis’ worried look and fixes his eyes on the red vehicle in front of them, “I can just Google it and figure it out. Really, I'm fine now. Sorry.” He's about to cry for real, that telltale flush of heat spreading across his cheeks and sniffling nose. If he were to speak with Jay, she would most definitely see through his lies; she is a midwife after all.

 

Louis sighs, it's all he seems to do these days around the boy. “Why are you sorry? It wasn't your fault. I think you need to see a doctor, babe. It's been a while since you've been, wanna make sure that's all it was, sleep paralysis?"

 

“OK, I will,” is all the boy says as they continue down the busy road. His legs are shaking and it's a bit difficult to control the pedals but he manages to keep his right leg steady and mind focused on the task at hand whilst holding in all his conflicting emotions. Luckily there's an open space right near the entrance to the store, so Harry pulls in quickly, throwing the car into park with a pained grunt. Every muscle aches now that's he's been awake for over an hour; he'll be throwing up again in no time if he can't calm down.

 

“Hazza?” Louis whispers. His boyfriend still has a foot on the break. “Are you going to be alright?” Harry doesn’t respond, apparently the floor mats are more interesting. As concerned as he is about Harry, he does have to go to work.

 

“Louis, wait,” Harry finally looks up, pleading with glassy eyes for his boyfriend to stay in the car for one more minute while he still has the courage to say what he should have said months ago.

 

“ _Harry_ ,” Louis sighs heavily. If he's ever going to save up enough money for an engagement ring before he's forty,  he has to put in as much time at the store as possible and now he has to take all of this time off of work. A vacation is great, but he'd rather earn the money now and enjoy an epic vacation with Harry later. Not only does Louis need to manage all the normal day-to-day operations now that the summer is approaching, he has two new employees to train before leaving the country for a week. How can he do any of this if he's out here sitting in the damn car?

 

“Call the doctor this morning, yeah? Then text me on your break, and we'll talk more. I _want_ us to talk. I always do." He unlocks the door and takes a step out into the warm morning air.

 

“ _Please_ , “Harry tries again, reaching over the empty seat to tug on the back of Louis' white t-shirt. “I’m trying to tell you something important,” his voice raises just enough for Louis to notice the exasperation behind every word.

 

Louis turns to yell above the car radio. "Out with it then!" With narrowed eyes he leans down into the vehicle, a familiar surge of anger rising within him. “I was supposed to be here ten minutes ago, and quite honestly, I have work to do and don't know how to deal with you right now." His mouth is moving faster than his brain can filter all the thoughts, and despite making the startled boy back up against the door, Louis continues his selfish rant at full volume.

 

"Something is up with you, Harry, way more than this sleep thing, but this is _**not**_ a good time to be getting into serious shit like having children. What I don’t appreciate, is you waiting to tell me until the very last possible second that you woke up and _couldn't fucking move_ , so then there's _nothing_ I can do, and I'm a shitty boyfriend!" He pauses for a moment, just long enough to breathe. "You got me in a corner, and I’m supposed to do what? _I have to go to work now_ , _m_ _e job_ , where the majority of our money comes from. Do you want to have a good time on this " _workation"_ thing or not? I could just not go and leave you three to fuck about in America! How about that then?” Emotions once again got the best of him but Louis meant it; it's how he truly feels but he never meant to say a word of that out loud; especially not in front of his boyfriend! 

 

When the last of Louis' harsh words die in the air, Harry gulps audibly. Louis has never yelled at him like this before; never has he been so abrupt, so _mean_. Harry doesn't dare cry for fear of being yelled at again. Louis' blue eyes are furious, burning holes straight through Harry's head.

 

“I, I, I," The teenager stutters uncontrollably, "I wo-won't keep you.... Ha-have a good day, Lou. I'll be back at six.”

 

Louis snaps out of his bitter state-of-mind, and his heart aches at the sight before him: Harry's frightened, glassy green eyes are cast down at the floor, and there's a trail of crimson running down his chin. The boy bit his lip so hard, it's bleeding.

 

“Oh my god, Harry....that was wrong...all of it, I'm wrong, I'm so, so sorry. Hazza..." 

 

“No, m'sorry. Sorry."

 

Louis slumps forward a bit in the seat, absolutely at his wits end yet he reminds himself to remain calm for Harry's sake. He grabs a clean napkin from the glove box which he uses to gently blot at Harry's swollen, bleeding lip.

 

"Text me on your break, and I'll call you. OK? I love you." It's difficult to give Harry a proper hug in the front seat, but he leans over the gear shift as far as he can to take his boyfriend by both shoulders. Harry is still staring at the floor mats but he lets Louis gently turn his upper body around. " _I love you_ ," Louis repeats softly, desperate to make eye contact so Harry understands that he is not mad at him, and is not just saying the words.

 

“I...I love you too.” He takes the bloody napkin from Louis' hand, and accepts a kiss on the forehead. His lips are wet and warm and somehow _safe_ ; Harry wishes they could stay like this just for a moment or two longer, but they both need to leave. As they pull apart, Harry finally looks up to stare deep into Louis’ eyes; there's the blue he knows, they're much softer now, still intense but not at all threatening. When Louis' lips smile, his eyes do too, and there's suddenly an easy calmness between the two men in the car.

 

Not totally confident that Harry should be going to work, never mind driving, Louis gets out of the car and turns back quickly. “Hazza, eat something good before you go in. And **_please_  **find out if you can get an appointment with the doctor today...I'll leave work to go with you, if you need me."

 

"OK. I will.”

 

 

~ ● ~

 

 

“Louis! Just the man I want to see.”

 

“Oi, Jim,” Louis plops his paper bag onto the front counter next to the till. He's still rattled from blowing up at his boyfriend just minutes ago, and could seriously use a cigarette or three right about now. He tries shaking off all personal issues to focus on the busy day ahead. “So, when do the newbies get here?”

 

“Any minute now," Jim croaks. The man smokes way too much, and yet he gives Louis shit for it daily. "I wanted to give you a heads up...one of 'em couldn't commit to the whole summer, so I offered the job to my niece who's also working at the ice cream shop up the road. She's probably over qualified for this, but our lives will be much easier. Hope that's alright."

 

Louis emerges from behind the counter to approach his boss who is now busy opening the shades on the front windows overlooking the street. The seventy-year-old man is tall and thin, so his body does very little to shield the blinding sun streaming through the clear glass, making the cardboard box on the floor in front of Louis practically invisible. He manages to skirt it just in time before nearly crashing into an end cap of gardening tools. “At this rate, your whole family, plus your Nan, is going to be working here, James.”

 

“Yup!" Jim laughs heartily, he's always appreciated the young man's humour. "She's staying with me and Suzanne for the summer, thought she could use the extra money."

 

Louis scrubs an open palm over his face, mumbling to himself whilst doing the mental math, “wait...isn’t she like, fourteen or summat?” He really doesn’t want to be responsible for teenagers this summer; he was promised quality workers, adults with experience.

 

Jim un-clips the massive ring of jingling keys from his belt loop to unlock the large glass double doors. "Who do you think I'm talking about?"

 

Louis stuffs a stack of twenty pound notes into the till. "Umm...Claire?" He makes his way towards the center aisle to flick on the last row of halogen lights.

 

“Ha!" Jim cackles, "Good luck getting _her_ to work here. No, I asked Eleanor."

 

A resounding crash of glass and a string of profanities cuts the silence. "Are you _trying_ to kill me!?" Louis seethes from the middle of aisle five. This day just went from shitty to absolutely fucked!

 

Jim is not at all surprised by his star employee's reaction. "I know it didn't work out for you two, but you'll be able to get on with the job, right?"

 

" _With me ex-girlfriend!_?" Louis shouts in disbelief; did his boss seriously think this was a good idea? Son-of-a-bitch! There's a layer of shattered glass all over the linoleum and the other employees are going to be here any minute. If he didn't need the money, he would walk out those doors right now; the thought of it is tempting, so fucking tempting.

 

"Don't worry," Jim sing-songs with a hint of optimism in his voice, "I wouldn't give up on her yet, lad."

 

 

~ ● ~

 

 

Harry has a good half hour before needing to be at the office, so he decides to treat himself to something good from the cafe around the corner. He was only going to order his drink and go, but he really needs a few minutes alone after that horrible car ride with Louis. He finds a welcoming shady spot under a large tree at the back of the lot; the perfect place to sit and  _not_ think for a bit. With the help of some Fleetwood Mac, a warm frothy beverage, and a joint packed with his favorite Sativa, Harry is able to calm down enough to get to work on time without causing an accident. His stomach is having a grand ol' time gurgling away loudly, so he saves the blueberry scone for lunch.

 

The car park is nearly full, so he's lucky to find a spot as close to the building as possible while leaving the closest space available for Janet, the oldest member of staff. Out of everyone who works here, she is by far the nicest and most knowledgeable; she’s like everyone’s grandmother, with twenty-plus years experience in the vacation rental business. She likes Harry too, and doesn't patronize him; she even enjoys his jokes, as terrible as they are.

 

Harry quickly gathers his black laptop case, and the two heavy canvas bags from the backseat, filled with assorted materials from camera cords and sticky notes to spare shower liners and stainless-steel polish; whatever he needs to make a room look good in a photograph. There must be a headache on its way, because as he steps out of the car, he starts to feel a bit woozy. He shakes it off, glad to pretend like it's all in his mind, and heads for the front entrance. Halfway up the cement steps, a wave of nausea rolls over him. Before he can even think of turning his head toward the bordering shrubs, he violently vomits the delicious latte all over the stairs, just barely missing his shiny brown boots.

 

Blinking back tears, he reluctantly looks up at the building, expecting to see his co-workers gawking through the large window overlooking the parking lot. Fortunately, no one else is outside, but he can't tell if anyone sitting by the windows saw what just happened. His mouth tastes awful, and his throat is burning; it's a struggle not to run back to the car and go home, because he must go in to work today, he can't possibly call out sick when he's supposed to be going on this "workation" in two days. His boss would surely send someone else from the office to accompany Liam on the project, and then Louis and Niall wouldn't be able to go. There is no way he is going to mess up their plans, all of them have been looking forward to this since March.

 

In the moment, all Harry can think of to clean up the sick, is water. Lots of water. He drops everything onto the top step and pulls out his trusty refillable water bottle. It was a good idea, but sixteen ounces of water does very little to wash away a stubborn mess like this. Now out of water, and late for work, the weary lad has to give up his cleaning effort. Without a doubt, this is going to be a  _ **long**_  day **.**

 

~ • ~

 

Everything seems to be going wrong for Harry today. First it was being sick on the way in, then this meeting with Liam and Marc, the company's director. He honestly has no idea what was said or what was agreed to during the meeting, for he was too busy trying to ignore these unnerving cramps. Now he's feeling bloated and hungry, and exhausted to the point he fell asleep  at his desk while waiting for his printer to warm up.

 

The morning dragged by painfully slow, and now that it's mid-day, the minute hand on the taunting wall clock seems to have stopped moving all together. Just as Harry finishes one task, there is another “urgent priority” added to the endless workload; most of them are not in his job description, but he can't complain, he has to do as he's told so he can keep this job. They've got him doing everything today, from resizing and uploading hundreds of photographs to the company server, to calling dozens of home owners who have failed to either pay a bill on time or their rental property needs repairs. 

 

By 11:00am, its time for lunch. He eats the delicious blueberry scone at his desk, but regrets it twenty minutes later when he's sick again in the employee toilets. After hours of torture, the weary lad decides to leave work early and visit Niall. If he has any shred of luck left, his friend will be home from class around 2:00PM, giving Harry enough time to print off a few things and get to the bank before stopping at his former residence. It was a great plan, and he could have gotten away with clocking out early, if his printer didn't start freaking out; the loud beeping alerting the entire room to Harry's predicament.

 

“Harry, can we talk for a minute?” Liam takes small, slow steps towards Harry's messy desk by the window. Their office is small compared to the other offices within the four-story building; there is always a light commotion of reservation agents booking guests over the phone, printers, and the clicking of computer keys, and then there's the shy curly-haired photographer in the corner who made very little noise in the office until today.

 

“Not now, Liam,” Harry huffs, too focused on the puddle of black printer ink staining the plastic surface in front of his precious laptop. He just wants to print out some personal documents before leaving, but apparently that is not happening anytime soon.

 

“We have to start this project, you can't keep avoiding me. We need to work together.” Liam's normally bright eyes look dull and sad this afternoon, and that only makes Harry feel worse. As much as he wants to apologize for being rude and ignoring him and Niall all week, Harry can't stand being in the same room as his friend; not until after he talks with Louis. He's afraid to know what Liam overheard; all of it was horrible: the pregnancy accusation from Niall, the fact that everyone else thinks they are in love with each other; and here Harry thought the night he and Liam met was the most embarrassing moment between them. No, last Sunday definitely topped the cake.

 

“If it's work stuff, fine. But I'm not talking about anything else.”

 

Liam can tell Harry does not want to be here, and would not want to hear about Niall spilling the beans about his friend possibly being pregnant, but this is the first chance Liam has had his friend's attention all week. “Look, Harry, I didn't hear anything. Nothing I didn't already know. So, nothing's changed between us, we're still us. I won't tell anyone.”

 

By the time his friend has finished speaking, Harry is prepared to crawl over the desk just to escape this terrible conversation. Or maybe he could jump out the window and make his death quick; anything is better than this. There are too many co-workers around, too many ears and eyes who typically care more about personal drama going on around them then their actual jobs. This once was a place where Harry could disappear into the background for a while whenever he wanted; in fact, some employees still don't know who he is. Well, it was nice while it lasted. Between throwing up twice today, and arguing with Liam, most of the office has started to gossip, and rubberneck, as the two friends continue to whisper-yell at each other over in the corner.

 

“Is this how it's going to be from now on then? You and I don't talk unless it's work related?”

 

“ ** _Yes_** ,” the teen forcefully answers through gritted teeth, peering over the 24” monitor with serious, dark eyes. “That's exactly what we're going to do, because if you keep talking like this,” he purposefully waves an index finger between them, “calling us ' _us_ '...you just can't dothat anymore, Liam. Please stop.”

 

Not at all surprised by his friend's reaction, Liam clears his throat before getting back to the reason he came over to this side of the building in the first place. “So where are you with that template?”

 

Harry abandons rubbing his ink-stained fingers together for a moment to pay attention. “What template?”

 

“Ummm...the one for the Maine cabin. Y'know....like, how are you going to format your write-up? Where are your photos going?  Where are my pieces going to fit in?”

 

Overwhelmed by questions about a project he knows nothing about, Harry's shallow anxious breathing becomes increasingly rapid.  “I dunno...I...I was going to put it all together when we returned...decide on the layout when I see the property in person. That's OK, right?"

 

“Harry,” Liam sighs, “Marc wants to see a template before we go...that's what this morning's meeting was about. I had a feeling you weren't listening.”

 

“What do you want from me, Liam? Because I can't do a fucking thing right anymore. My printer is dead or dying, there's dozens of owners I need to speak with but none of them bother to respond to me because...well, I dunno why I'm always ignored here, that's an excellent question. Liam?"

 

Some smart-ass across the room whistles, and a few others laugh at the scene. Liam, completely embarrassed, says nothing even when Harry continues to yell at him in front of everyone within ear shot. His best friend's personality has definitely rubbed off on the boy!

 

"I'm just a kid,"  Harry's voice is hoarse from throwing up three times already, and yelling is only making it worse. "I know nothing apparently and then there's _these_ dickheads,” Harry gestures around the room at their busy co-workers, “I've stepped up and done all of their jobs on top of mine at least once since being here, and you know what? None of them, aside from Marc, has ever given me any credit. And that wasn't until _you_  came along....and you know _why_?”

 

“Harry, _please_ calm down.” Liam has never heard his friend speak like this before; something is seriously wrong. "This stress isn't good for you!"  Harry looks furious, face red and sweaty; his breathing is shallow and Liam fears the boy is going to pass out.

 

“Because Shy Styles talked golden boy _Liam Payne_ into applying to VRH International! That's _my_ crowning achievement at this company!" He takes a step back and bumps into another desk. "There's a zillion things...to...do...no time...temp-temp..." The corners of his vision are slowly closing in, and there's an annoying buzzing sound filling his ears. 

 

 _"Shit oh shit!"_ Harry hears a deep, garbled voice shout as the entire room spins out control. The last thing he sees is Liam's face, before his head hits the floor and everything goes black.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A special Thank You to all of you who have been waiting for this 😊 I've missed you!!! If all goes well, the next chapter will be up by the weekend. So excited!
> 
> Questions? Concerns? Let me know here. Kudos and comments are love. XxPv


	6. Calling All Skeletons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“ **Nothing** is your fault,” Liam interrupts Harry's rambling with a firm yet calm voice. “You have to stop blaming yourself for what he did to you.” He hops off the stool and very carefully wraps an arm around Harry's shoulder. “You didn't do anything wrong.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Friday, everyone! Finally, Chapter 6 is here. Secrets are revealed! Are you ready? (Technology is fighting me hard today, so please excuse any weird spacing/typos. I'm working on it. Dunno why I'm so nervous LOL). Hope you enjoy!
> 
> *** Be aware that there are WARNINGS/TRIGGERS for this story, including but not limited to: panic attacks, physical domestic and verbal abuse, miscarriage, and reference to abortion and rape. There may be more important warnings for future chapters, so **please always read the authors notes**. Thank you!

 

 

 

 

Ever since Louis arrived at work, he has been anxious and annoyed. From learning that his boyfriend is still experiencing serious health and mental issues, to finding out his ex-girlfriend will be working here, it's been one painful punch in the gut after another. He did get a momentary reprieve while having a nice chat with new-hire, Cameron, a charismatic 19-year-old student from Connecticut, USA. The attractive dark-skinned young man has to be at least six-and-a-half feet tall, which makes Louis look even shorter when they stand beside each other at the registers. The older man shared that he and his mates are going on a vacation to Maine in a few days, but didn't go into much detail. Naturally, Cameron shared a few tips and tricks for having an awesome time in New England, and the pair enjoyed talking about football and video games until all the other employees piled through the door. 

 

“Thank you, everybody for coming in early today.” Louis announces as the chatty group of employees gathers around the front registers. It's nearly time to open the store, and Jim asked the manager to get everyone organized so they can go over the week's schedule.

 

“Oi! We got a lot to cover in fifteen minutes, so let's get started. James?" He turns to the owner before taking a seat on the rusted step stool behind the counter. 

 

“Right, so we all know the big season is here, and we have two stores to worry about, both equally important. We have the DIY side, and the party shop. All of you will be helping each other but for the most part you'll be staying in your assigned areas, depending on the schedule.” Jim peers over his silver-rimmed glasses at Louis who is in his own world, staring out the window at the busy street.

 

“Who's supposed to be where?”

 

Louis' eyes automatically roll; Jim knows exactly who is supposed to be where, he just wants Louis to say it.

  
  
“Let’s see,” Louis reads off the schedule Jim scribbled onto his trusty clipboard. "Alan, Chris, Amanda, you're going to be working over here with Jim, same as always,” he gestures at the aisles of hardware and home furnishings before silently rereading the paper. Eleanor's name is on the list but she hasn't shown up yet. Maybe Jim was just taking the piss after all. “Next door with me, it's Cam-”

  
  
  
“Hello?” A familiar female voice calls from the doorway. “Oh, hi! Sorry I'm late.”  
  
  
  
**_Shit_**.

  
  
  
~ • ~

  
  
_What happened!?...Way to go, Payno….Shut up, you bloody idiot!...Is he OK?...Someone call 999!...Calm down, he only fainted...Harry?...Back up, give him space...Harry?..._  
  
  
When Harry is jostled awake from a dreamless sleep, he is buckled into the front passenger seat of a speeding vehicle without a clue as to when or how he got there. It's not the first time something scary like this has happened, and the thought of being kidnapped sets off a thunderstorm of emotions. If history _is_ repeating itself, Harry is being driven to one of Sam's favorite secret hangouts where he will be raped by every man in this vehicle as well as all of those who paid for tonight's _special event._ God knows what else he will be forced to do; Sam is well-known for coming up with new ways of humiliating and exploiting the weak teen.

 

For a whole year, Harry has been good at laying low, somehow managing to avoid all of the places his ex-boyfriend typically frequents. He never shops at the two super market closest to Sam's flat, he hasn't set foot inside the bank around the block from the University, and he _never_ _ever_ goes near the park. In fact, there are entire sections of town the boy absolutely refuses to go, even with Louis or Niall by his side. He has definitely been lucky thus far, having not run into the monster since being abandoned at the clinic. Unfortunately, it feels like today he and Sam will be _real_ close once again.

 

Too frightened to observe his surroundings, Harry closes his eyes and turns his entire body toward the window. Every thought is more frantic than the next, all he can do is curl up into the tiny space between the seat and the door and try to breathe. With both hands clamped over his eyes, the helpless boy screams so loud, the sudden noise startles whoever is behind the wheel.  
  
  
  
“Jesus!” Liam shouts, clutching a hand to his pounding chest. The car swerves well over the center line but he manages to steer them back into the correct lane with one hand, narrowly missing an oncoming SUV. He has no idea why Harry yelled but it nearly scared the shit out of him. He thought the boy was giving him the silent treatment after being carried out of the building (bridal-style), down the vomit-covered front steps and into the car. Harry protested the whole way, flailing his legs the best he could in an attempt to escape, like being helped was the most embarrassing moment of his young life. No way in hell was Liam going to let his friend continue working, or walk all that way on his own. None of this trauma is good for Harry...or the baby, if what he's concluded is true. If Harry is pregnant, and anything bad were to happen to either one of them, Liam would never be able to forgive himself.  
  
  
“Why are you doing this!?” Harry pleads, not cognizant that his friend is driving, and he is not in any danger. It is impossible to process what is happening; just a minute ago he was in the toilets at work...how the hell did he get here, where are they going, and who is driving!? “Let me go!”

 

“You passed out, Harry! Remember!?” Liam has to raise his voice over all the shouting. There is too much traffic so he can't take his eyes off the road long enough to look at his friend. “I'm taking you to hospital!”  
  
  
The scared and confused teen is so close to jumping out of the moving car, he fumbles around blindly for the door handle, still thinking this is a kidnapping. Everything is confusing to him, and nothing the driver says makes any sense. He never passed out, that's not true! They're just trying to trick him into complying.

 

“Noooooo!” Harry shrieks, eyes squeezed tight. They are not taking him to the hospital, they are going to do disgusting things to him for their own twisted pleasure.  None of these sick people will care what may happen to him as a result. “Please don't! I'm already pregnant!  _Please, Sam, let me go_!”

 

Harry never thought he could be more frightened than he was during those final weeks with his ex-boyfriend, however, now that he is responsible for protecting a piece of _Louis_ , the fear is unsurpassed! With a silent prayer, he promises to tell _everyone_ the truth about _everything_ , if he can just escape this nightmarish situation unscathed. Even if they do let him go, he will probably still have a heart attack.

 

“Lou!” He calls out desperately even though there is absolutely no hope of his boyfriend hearing him. “I’m sorry... m'sorry!”

 

Suppressed memories, terrible dreams, and harsh reality are all twisted up in Harry's mind, making his hysterical outburst incredibly confusing, and painful for Liam to witness. Despite what little he knows about Harry's past, he always suspected the boy's ex was abusive in some way, although he had no idea things were _this_ bad. A loud sob causes Liam to jerk the wheel again and unfortunately he isn't able to properly look at Harry until they turn off the main road.

 

With each passing second, more threatening grey clouds fill the sky, and dampness can be felt in the air. It's going to pour any minute, and make driving with a wailing passenger even more dangerous. Without a second thought, Liam speeds up and takes the next left turn, not caring at all if it's an actual road or someone's driveway.

When the car rolls to a screeching halt halfway down the empty road, Harry is crying uncontrollably with both arms wrapped around his torso, curled up like a dog left out in the rain.

 

As if some sick joke from the heavens, heavy rain drops begin to fall, loudly pelting the roof of the car like tiny lead balls. A pained noise comes from Harry's side of the car, and Liam wishes more than anything that what he is about to say is true.

 

“It's going to be OK. You're alright.”

 

That voice, Harry knows that voice. Still in a haze of confusion, the sobbing boy finally peers over at the driver who is staring back at him looking absolutely distraught.

 

“ _Liam…?_ ” He whines, wide eyes dripping with tears. He can't say anything else for he is too overwhelmed, and has made his friend cry too.

 

Did he really pass out at work? He doesn't remember getting into the car, or agreeing to any of this. At least he had enough wits about him to protest going to the hospital! Then again, maybe he should go, just in case. There have been numerous occasions he should have gone but was not allowed. More racing thoughts are causing him to sweat and shake; he's roughly ten seconds away from completely falling apart in Liam's arms, yet again.

 

“I, I, I thought...I thought you...”

 

Moving slower than molasses in January, Liam takes his hands off the steering wheel to wipe the tears off his own colorless cheeks. He can barely turn around in the seat with an annoying belt across his chest yet he tries anyway.

 

“I'm never going to hurt you. OK?” It's difficult to speak with a hoarse voice cracking with sadness, and he has to stop himself from placing a hand on Harry's arm.

 

“You still trust me?” He can't bare to see Harry like this again, unraveling into a complete mess he doesn't understand yet will never stop trying to figure out. He has to wonder if Louis has ever seen his boyfriend like this; whether or not Louis knows anything more about Harry's past. He can only hope that Harry will be OK after this upsetting misunderstanding, the baby too. He prays Louis will be supportive either way. Then Niall can do his little _I Told You So_ jig, and Liam...he will be happy when all of his friends are happy.

 

Harry knows now that he is safe, and Liam is only trying to help, but he's still hesitant to speak. Instead of verbally agreeing, he nods slowly until Liam finally turns back around in the driver's seat. There's an audible gurgling coming from Harry's empty stomach, and he feels it too. After processing what they both have said, the loud rumbling really is the last straw; he hugs himself tighter, feeling absolutely embarrassed and incredibly vulnerable.

 

“Please, Li, can we go home?”

 

Despite Liam's brain shouting at him to continue with the original plan of getting Harry to A&E, his heart wins. Against all better judgement, the determined man flicks on the windshield wipers before making a quick u-turn. Without a word, he pulls out slowly into traffic, heading back in the direction they came.

 

Neither of them can speak for the majority of the ride, it's just too emotional; Harry just blurted out the truth, there's no taking it back now. Unable to ignore the rumbling  of his empty stomach any longer, Harry reluctantly opens his eyes, gaze lazily turning to the closed window. He is beginning to recognize their surroundings now, familiar council houses and storefronts coming into view up ahead.

 

“Will you stay with me?” He sniffles sadly into a shirtsleeve now wet-through with tears. The cat may be out of the bag but Harry doesn't want to be alone, not after everything that's happened.

 

A small smile tugs at the corners of Liam's lips. Of course he will stay, he wasn't planning on leaving Harry alone anywhere. “I am staying with you all day.” He clears his throat before he can tear up again, “you won't be alone.”

 

There's a shift in mood happening in the silver sedan, it's getting lighter slowly but surely as they get closer to home. Liam quickly explains that Marc knows they are both taking the rest of the day off.

 

“I told him you will not be in the office tomorrow or the next day, but you'll be ready for Thursday. He agreed it's best. Ya know what, don't even think about work right now, it's all sorted.”

 

“I won't,” Harry sniffles. Words cannot express how relieved he is about not having to go back to work for a week.  “Thank you.”

   
“You're more than welcome, Harry. Think you can walk?” Liam nods in the direction of the apartment building. He hopes his friend can make it up to the flat on his own two feet; he will carry the boy through the rain if he has to. Luckily, Harry makes it  just fine on his own, trudging up the stairs at snail's pace, giving Liam the time he needs to analyze everything that just happened, and decide whether or not he should be the one to tell Louis about all of this.  
  
  
  
~ • ~  
  
  
  
Instead of working, all Louis can do is worry about how he is supposed to deal with life: Harry and his problems, Liam, Harry and Liam, this trip abroad, visiting family in a couple weeks and coming-out to his mum, re-introducing Harry as his boyfriend, buying the customized engagement ring, figuring out how and when to propose. Is Harry even ready to get married? He is only nineteen...and obviously wants children. What was the boy trying to suggest earlier? What other ways can they have a child?

 

Forget that for a minute...how can he possibly bring his boyfriend to work anymore if Eleanor is here? That ship sailed a long time ago, he loves Harry now and doesn't want to pretend anymore, even if it would please everyone else. Obviously Jim wants them to get back together...is his job on the line if they _don't_? That's it, Louis needs to look for another job when he gets back from the States, because Eleanor isn't going to quit and Jim would never fire her unless she burns down the shop or robs her family blind.

 

After all the staff introduced themselves, Cameron, Louis and Eleanor took a grand tour of the entire building, including the upstairs storage area and creepy cellar full of paint cans and small home electronics. Now the trio are next door in the party shop, where Louis is supposed to be showing his new employees the ropes.

 

“Sooo…” Cameron is first to break the awkward silence, “what are we doing?”

 

“Huh?” Louis snaps out of his trance; he has been chewing anxiously on his fingernails for the passed four minutes, staring down at the balloon order form he should be explaining. He looks up and sees poor Cameron standing there wide-eyed, waiting for instruction; and then there's Eleanor, already taking a customer's order  over the phone for one dozen red latex balloons and six assorted Mylar shapes. He didn't even hear the phone ring. _Dammit, why does she have to be so good at this?_  
  
  
  
“I'll teach you, Cam.” She says cheerfully while placing the cordless phone back on its cradle. “How about you try this one,” she holds up a silver star-shaped foil balloon. “It's easy after you do it a few times, just make sure you use the right nozzle. This purple rubber one is for latex, and plastic bubble balloons.” She pushes down on the flexible nozzle with a manicured finger, causing a bit of helium to release from its tapered tip. “Metal nozzle is for the foil-Mylar balloons, obviously. Lots of information, I know, but it's easy. Watch as I inflate one, OK? Then I'll show you how to tie off the end with a ribbon. We can do the rest together.”

  
  
_“Oh for fucks sake,”_ Louis mutters under his breath. _“_ You want to take over and I'll just go home?” He doesn't know how much longer he can stand being in this environment. Eleanor is too nice and perfect, and everything is so fucking “ _easy”_. _If it's so easy, why don't the customers just do it themselves? Why are any of us even here!?_

  
  
“Excuse me, but I know what I'm doing, and you're not teaching him anything,” the young woman snaps back. She proceeds to tie her long brown hair back into a low ponytail while giving Cameron a friendly smile. She assures him that he is in good hands with her as it's not her first time helping out around the shop.  
  
  
Louis slips out from behind the till and walks up to the pair standing at the helium tank. “I'm just trying to figure out how this is going to…” _Shit, she's wearing those tight denim shorts_. Louis shakes off that thought, cursing his trained brain; It is an unfortunate automatic response to seek out _anything_ sexually attractive about the young woman.   _“_ Uuugh, I wasn't expecting **_you_** , El.”

 

The young woman is definitely annoyed, both Louis and Cameron can easily tell. She narrows her eyes at her ex-boyfriend, “So what's the problem?”

 

“What _isn't_ a problem?”

 

“Am I missing something?” The youngest employee  looks between his manager and co-worker. “You two worked together before?”  
  
  
“No,” Louis answers through gritted teeth. He'll leave it at that.

  
  
While filling the first foil star, Eleanor ignores Louis’ bitchface and turns to Cameron who still looks perplexed by the sudden argument. “We actually dated for eight months,” she clarifies with a smirk. “But someone couldn’t keep it in his pants.”

 

Neither man was expecting such a blunt and spiteful response. Honestly, Louis wishes he had told her the truth instead of breaking her heart, then they could at least still be friends. Now his past and present are colliding, and it's not looking pretty.

 

“Don't start,” He warns. Even though it's been less than a year since the couple parted ways and they haven't talked since, now is not the time or place to do this. Totally incensed, Louis bites his lip and clenches his fists before saying something regretful. Truthfully, Eleanor didn't deserve to be strung along for all that time while he figured himself out. She really liked him, and tried so hard to make it work no matter what pathetic excuses Louis gave for wanting to break things off. For a while, the closeted man thought he could make their relationship real; find ways to enjoy it, get excited by it, let Eleanor love him and eventually he'd fall in love with her. At the end of the day, they _were_ friends. Of course Louis had to screw that up too. Eleanor didn't agree to end their relationship until he told her the last and final convoluted lie he could think of just so she would _finally_ leave. In any case, they don't need to be talking about that at work. Or ever again.

 

Suddenly Louis feels a chill run down his spine, like a sixth-sense alerting him to something bad happening somewhere. He glares at Eleanor once more when she isn't looking, then turns around to whisper in Cameron's direction.

 

“I'll be back soon”, he gives the younger man a pat on the shoulder. “You're doing great, lad. Don't let her talk anymore shit.”  
  
  
Before Cameron can ask where his manager is going, Louis is out the door with cigarettes in one hand and Harry's grey hoodie in the other. The frustrated man pushes through the oncoming foot traffic and turns the corner into the empty alleyway. It's the one place he can go for a break where he won't be disturbed yet today it feels like there's someone or something constantly with him; it's enough to make his skin crawl.

 

Without thinking, he hurls the crushed cigarette packet down the alley with an angry grunt. Of course the flimsy red cardboard bounces off the red bricks and lands directly into a puddle. Upon further inspection, it turns out to be a deep puddle of something that is definitely _not_ rain water.

 

“No.fooking.way.”

 

Out of smokes, and out of patience, Louis shoves his reddening face into the balled-up sweatshirt, and with all of his might, releases the loudest and most painful scream he's let out in years. **_This day cannot be happening!_**

  
  
~ • ~

 

 

It's been a quiet few minutes, until Harry stops abruptly in front of door 2C, silver key clutched in a vice grip. “Promise you won't leave?” His voice is so quiet, like he's whispering to the door, and Liam barely hears the question.  
  
  
“Yes, I promise.” _Why would he leave? Who would do that?_

 

Everything looks essentially the same in the two-bedroom flat as when Liam moved out, except there are a lot more candles and colorful accents throughout. There's a special cheeriness about the once-dull space that makes him happy. Even when Harry is sad or upset, the younger lad brings a ray of sunshine wherever he goes; Liam hopes Louis feels it too.

 

While following his friend's lanky silhouette through the dark kitchen, he remembers hearing Harry's stomach growling, he should probably make them something to eat. The poor boy must be starving! Harry flicks on the ceiling light just as Liam is about to reach for it, illuminating the unnecessary mess Louis had made earlier in the morning.

 

“OK. Need to wee,” Harry announces with a humorously serious face.

 

A bit curious, Liam stands in the doorway of the kitchen, watching as Harry shuffles right on passed the bathroom and disappears into the bedroom.

 

“Thought you had to...never mind,” Liam chuckles softly, taking long strides down the hallway. He stops at the door which is open just a crack. “I'm gonna make us something to eat,” he speaks through the narrow opening. “Shout if you need me.”

 

“Wait!” A muffled voice calls out from deep within the room.

 

“I'm not going anywhere, Harry.” He thought his friend understood this, apparently not.

 

“No...I can't find...did I use it? _No_. Where the hell...!?”

 

“What’s gone missing?” Without hesitation, Liam lets himself into the room. A few steps in and he still doesn't see Harry anywhere. “Where are you? Want some help?”

 

“Never mind, found it!” A mess of fluffy curls pokes out from the closet on the other side of the room. Harry gives the older man a forced smile. “Thanks though.”

 

“Alright, I'll be in the kitchen.”

  
A good fifteen minutes later, Harry still hasn’t reappeared, and Liam is getting worried. He gently places his own mug back down on the glass table and picks up Harry’s untouched cup. With tea in hand, he heads back down the hall to find his friend. The bathroom is empty, and the bedroom door is wide open with no one inside. Liam backtracks a few steps and stops in front of his old bedroom.

 

“Harry?” He calls, knocking gently on the closed door. “Can I come in?” He doesn't wait for a response, and lets himself in anyway. “Brought you a cuppa…”

 

There Harry is perched on the edge of the wooden desk, with a sheepish expression and both hands in his lap. He is dressed in a white t-shirt which just reaches the waistband of his checkered boxer shorts. Normally he hates wearing the loose-fitting underwear, but today is too warm for pyjama bottoms, and his usual briefs feel snug. Since he can't be walking around naked with Liam here, he needed something comfortable to wear. This clean pair was found in the back of one of Louis’ drawers, and luckily they fit quite nicely. The sound of ceramic meeting the desk top catches Harry's attention. He spins the plastic stick in his hands nervously, sharp teeth biting fiercely on his bottom lip. The tip of his nose is turning pink and his eyes are watering; he’s going to break down into tears if he tries to speak.

 

“How are you? Still doing OK?” Liam can see Harry is zoned out, looking absolutely determined to open that fresh bite on his lip. “Want to talk for a bit? I think we should.”

 

“I just smoked like three grams in the bathroom,” the red-eyed boy finally whispers, not looking up once from his sweaty hands . “Was supposed to calm me down but it's not working.”

 

Liam's ears immediately perk up; he's only seen Harry get high a handful of times; all hilarious. This time, however, Harry's behavior is a bit unnerving. “Three grams of what?”

 

“Inadequately cured cannabis,” Harry scoffs. It is much easier to evade the impending baby conversation and talk about drugs than actually address the elephant in the room. “Somebody was in a hurry to sell, they cropped too soon and the buds are still damp and smell like grass. No wonder we've all had headaches.”

 

“Since when do you...? _What_ ?” Liam laughs heartily. He had no idea Harry knew these things; he and Louis only smoke the stuff, never really caring who or where it comes from so long as it's _good enough_ and priced right. “Definitely not as good as the last stuff, I agree, but should you really be smoking anything?”

 

The stoned teen ignores his friend's questions. “I could do so much better. _I have_ done better.” Harry chooses to stay where he is while Liam takes a seat across from him on a tall stool. He wants company yet he doesn't at the same time; it should be Louis here right now, not Liam. Then again, if he can rehearse this with Liam, then maybe he will finally gain the confidence to tell Louis.

 

“They were _my_ plants, I did everything for them from seedlings to cropping,” Harry laments fondly as the THC takes its glorious effect. “Hated everything around me but needed it at the same time. Y'know? Hated everyone, but I loved those plants.”

 

Liam has been trying to follow Harry's train of thought but the boy is kind of all over the place. “Where the hell can you do that around here?”

 

“That's a secret,” is all Harry says before nonchalantly setting the pregnancy test face-down on the desk. Liam gives his friend a curious look and shifts on the uncomfortable wobbly stool to get a look at the mystery object.

 

“I have to tell you something,” the nervous boy speaks again with great hesitation, “please don’t get mad.” He musters the courage to look at Liam, who is staring back at him wide-eyed and on the edge of his seat.

 

“I’m a male carrier.” Harry’s low voice is so quiet, it's barely audible in the otherwise silent room. “I know a lot of  people don't like it, so I don't tell them. M’sorry I lied, and yelled at you, and ignored you, and just all of it. S’my fault, m’sorry.”

 

Liam had all week to process the fact that Harry is a carrier thanks to Niall’s slip-up, and he is totally cool with it, but there is still a huge piece of the puzzle missing. He clears his throat before speaking.

 

“It’s alright, Harry. But what happened in the car?” He quickly thinks of a better way to rephrase the question. “I mean, who did you think I was? Where did you think I was taking you?”

 

“I thought you were, I dunno. Someone bad,”Harry admits sadly. “It’s happened before.” He tries to steer the conversation away from Sam and the terrifying kidnapping situation. “Why aren’t you upset? Aren’t you mad? I’m a freak and lied about it.”

 

“Because I already knew. I figured it out. And you're not a freak, H. _Not at all._ Guess I kinda always knew, but Niall would never tell me if I was right or not. I think it's amazing you can...that you're able to do this…” He reaches over to pick up the positive pregnancy test, urging his friend to look at it.

 

“Harry, this is _you_ _and_ _Lou_. How could I be mad about that? Did you tell him you're pregnant?”

 

Wow, it's strange hearing those words come out of someone else's mouth. “No. Not yet. He doesn’t even know I’m a carrier, and...” Harry inhales a deep breath; he's revealing things he never thought he would be able to say to another person, and it’s petrifying. “He doesn’t know what really happened with Sam either. No one knows.”

 

"Not even Niall?" Liam sighs heavily. He’s afraid to ask for more information, but he must know. “Sam did a lot more than yell, didn’t he?”

 

When the timid boy shrugs in response, Liam's eyes narrow and he leans forward so fast the unexpected movement makes Harry flinch.  

 

“What did he do?” Liam is about ready to hunt down Harry’s ex-boyfriend and snap the bastard's neck; He’s always wanted to go toe-to-toe with the guy, but needed confirmation about the abuse.

 

“I...I don’t want to talk about this anymore-”

 

“Did he hurt you physically?” He watches closely as Harry’s eyes go wide, and so he presses on. “You can tell me, I won’t repeat a word to anyone.”

 

Harry has taken to picking at his lips, mumbling around trembling fingertips. He feels pressured to answer  honestly. “Some...sometimes.”

 

“What did he do?”

 

“You’re _angry_ , Liam,” Harry recoils on the desk, pulling his knees up to his chin. Does he dare tell Liam about being smacked, slapped, punched, kicked, whipped, choked, drugged, raped, and bred like an animal? The list goes on and on, they’ll be here all night, and Liam will start a war.

 

“Please, I don't want to do this.” Harry hasn't felt this vulnerable in months, and biting his sore lip is only making him do it more because he can’t stop. Liam must think he's crazy or making this all up; bound by fear, he can't possibly explain his “relationship” with Sam, because the words just won't come out.

 

“I’m not mad at _you_ , Harry. Please talk to me. I can't help if I don’t know what happened.”

 

The last shred of Harry’s patience is spent, and he can’t stand the fact that he's in this vulnerable position yet again. Liam has obviously been affected by this since they met and the guilt Harry feels for wrapping his friends up in this craziness is immeasurable.

 

“You can't fix this Liam! Even if I told you who and where he is, he could _kill you_ and no one would know. He’d find me and Lou. He knows where my family lives. He’ll hurt everybody I love. Don't you get it!? That’s why I didn't want to tell you anything,” Harry whines. “It shouldn't be your problem, or Louis’ or Niall’s. It’s _my_ fault for lying, I'm the one who stayed with him even-”

 

“ ** _Nothing_ ** is your fault,” Liam interrupts Harry's rambling with a firm yet calm voice.  “You have to stop blaming yourself for what he did to you.” He hops off the stool and very carefully wraps an arm around Harry's shoulder. “You didn't do anything wrong.”

 

That one comment is all it takes to open the floodgates. Harry starts sobbing and shaking uncontrollably, letting all the built-up tears filled with sadness and regret flow. Maybe everything bad that has happened to him isn't his fault; he's always been made to feel like he deserved what he got, like he did something wrong in a past life and this one is his punishment. Without warning, Harry drops his legs and leans forward to wrap both arms around Liam’s sturdy frame. Like magnets, his wet face and Liam's chest connect; hot tears soaking into the older man's already damp dress shirt.

 

Liam gives him a light squeeze and rubs circles on Harry's back which helps to reassure the young man that he is safe, and Liam is not upset with him. The phone ringing in his back pocket doesn't faze Harry at all, so Liam lets it go, even though he knows by the ringtone that it's Louis calling. He couldn't possibly speak to anyone else right now if he tried. It's obvious both he and Harry need some time to calm down and refocus, otherwise Liam will break down too.

 

“Hey,” Liam coos into Harry's messy curls, “want to lay down? Rest up and maybe try some food?” They can't stay like this for much longer, and it's probably more beneficial if they focus on Harry’s needs, and the baby's, and forget about Sam and all the trauma for the time being. Liam will do everything in his power to make his friend feel safe and loved, always.

 

~ • ~

 

Harry lets out a big yawn before placing the reheated tea back down on the glass table. This is exactly what he needs right now. The two friends are enjoying sitting in the living room, not really talking about anything serious, although there is something the younger lad feels he is forgetting.

 

“I forgot to text Lou on my break,” Harry announces out of the blue. “Shit. Shit. Where's my phone!?” He grapples at the pile of tote bags and papers near his feet. “He's probably called a zillion times...”  
  
  
Before the frantic search escalates into a real panic attack, Liam quickly puts Harry at ease by saying he already talked with Louis, and everything is taken care of. Sure it's a small lie (he only left his best friend a voicemail), but Louis must have received it since he called back within the hour.

 

“Really? When? What did you say?”

 

“While you were in the bedroom. All I said was that Marc gave you the next two days off to focus on the project, and that we both left early to get started on the template here, where it's quiet. I didn't mention you fainting or what happened on the ride home. As far as he knows, it was a normal day.”

 

“Oh...thanks. Wait, where's all my stuff? I had personal things in my bag...my laptop...?"

 

"Everything is in the car, safe and sound. Laptop too."

 

Harry smiles with gratitude, however, his shameful eyes are cast down at the floor. He is truly grateful for Liam and his thoughtful nature, which is exactly why he feels so terrible for yelling at him in front of the entire office. The man was just trying to get work done, and all Harry could think about was himself.

 

“Sorry for yelling and embarrassing you today. I don't remember everything but I said some rude things that I don't really mean. M'sorry.”  
  
  
“Don’t worry about it, Harry, really, all is forgiven. Now that I understand you a bit more, I'm not surprised you ran out last weekend. I would have too, honestly. Today though...what set you off? Baby stuff?”  
  
  
Harry has to chuckle at that. No one has ever talked about his pregnancies like there is an _actual_ baby involved. It's rather surreal, and almost painful; another reminder that his boyfriend has no idea, and will not take the news well at all.

 

Liam lets Harry explain, in detail, why he's been so stressed lately: starting with several weeks ago when Louis used the wrong lube, and how he's been hiding the pregnancy. Then he explains waking up with sleep paralysis, and getting yelled at by Louis, throwing up, and all the extra work that keeps falling on his shoulders. He has been seriously questioning whether or not he is even capable or qualified to be leading this NorthEast project; apparently his body couldn't handle anymore stress. His blood pressure skyrocketed, and he hasn't been able to keep down any solid food in days. Neither of them are surprised the overwrought lad blacked out.

 

Harry is speaking unusually fast, so Liam has to read his lips so he doesn't miss a word.

 

“Wait, Harry,” Liam shakes his head in disbelief, “Louis yelled at you?”

  
“Yes,” the nervous boy admits reluctantly. “I was going to tell him, I mean, I was about to tell him we can have our own children... kinda make it a happy surprise, y'know?  It wasn't the best timing but _he_ started it.  Anyway, I know he doesn't want to be a dad anymore but he never explains why. I don't understand. Obviously he doesn't want to talk about it, ever, and I made him late for work...it wasn't good.”

  
  
With all of his strength, Liam has to refrain from bolting out of the flat to go beat Louis to a pulp. If he can't get his hands on Sam, he can still get Louis!

 

“He will want this baby. He loves you. Louis wants to have kids with you, I know it.”

 

Louis’ recent behavior is a total letdown, a kind of betrayal Liam will not forgive easily. _Why the fuck would Louis ever think it's OK to yell at Harry like that? To be so goddamn selfish_! Is Louis seriously that blinded by his own insecurities to see how detrimental that is? _Louis is better than this_ , he thinks, sliding over onto the empty cushion between them. He pulls the teary boy into a hug.  
  
  
“Sorry he did that to you, Harry. There's no excuse. I'll sort him out later, I promise,” Liam assures, shifting Harry in his arms so the boy can breathe.

 

Harry gasps. “Don't hurt him!” He was mean but he didn't hit me, Liam.”

 

“I'm not, I won't. I'm not mad, just...disappointed.” He can feel Harry's frown turn into a smile through the fabric of his shirt. “What?”

 

“That's what my mum says when I screw up. You're such a dad,” Harry pokes amusingly at Liam's left shoulder blade. The older man smells good, he's warm, solid, and strong. Most importantly, he makes Harry feel safe.

 

In a moment of weakness, the hormonal teen can't help himself; his lips find Liam's warm skin, just above the collar of the half- unbuttoned shirt. To his delight, Liam doesn't move, so he kisses him again, and a third time for good measure. All the while, Liam rubs circles lovingly on Harry's back, enjoying the steady blast of hot breath and lips on his neck until a loud gurgling interrupts their intimate moment.

  
  
“Let's see if you can keep some food down,” Liam's mouth brushes the ends of Harry's curls. They need to move because this feels way too good.

 

The starving boy nods, and they slowly pull apart. He quickly plops both hands in his lap with a soft whimper.

 

“Alright there?” Liam can see the boy is exhausted but shouldn't sleep anymore until after eating something.

 

“M’good,” Harry lies, still not looking Liam in the eye. He enjoyed that hug way too much. Well, his body definitely did. _Why the hell am I getting excited right now? That was just a friendly kiss, meant nothing more. Liam smells so good though..._ Hormones, that has to be it.

 

“Just horngry, um hungry.” Harry quickly corrects himself, slapping an open palm to his forehead. Totally embarrassed, he dips his head to secretly make sure nothing is poking out, and the outline of his hardening prick can't be seen through the thin boxer shorts.

Liam pretends not to notice Harry checking himself out. “OK then,” he chuckles jovially, giving Harry a pat on the knee before running into the kitchen to grab their very basic lunch.  

 

Liam waits until Harry has eaten one half of his sandwich before politely excusing himself. When he returns from the loo, the tired lad is sitting cross-legged on the sofa with a small piece of sandwich hanging out of his mouth; head bobbing occasionally as he begins to nod off.

  
Liam smiles fondly as he quietly approaches his sleepy friend. He takes the half-eaten sandwich from Harry's hand and places it back on its plate on the low table. After brushing the crumbs off Harry's chest, he slides in behind him on the sofa, letting Harry stretch out and recline against his chest.

  
“Thanks, Li. For everything. Really tired now though.” Truly, he's beyond tired, and finally got his boner to go away without needing to jerk off. Too exhausted to analyze things further, he gives in to the comfort of Liam's warm embrace.

  
“Sleep here if you want to. I'm not going anywhere.” Liam's chest vibrates as he speaks, causing tingles to run down the back of Harry's head and neck.

 

He settles into the welcoming warmth and lets Liam play idly with his curls. They've never been this close before, and it feels good. Liam doesn't seem to care that he kissed him, and for the first time in days, Harry is having pleasant thoughts. It's a huge weight off his mind not having to worry about anything or anyone else; Liam is keeping him safe, and no one is going to bother him while Liam is here. He can sleep peacefully, forgetting all about his problems for a while.

 

“Harry?”

 

“Hmm?” Harry purrs, his nose nuzzling against Liam's bicep.

 

The sober man pulls the bunched-up hem of Harry's shirt back down over his waist. The boy is finally calmed down, he doesn't want to ruin the mood but he's dying to know for sure.

 

“Do you really think Lou is jealous?"

 

Harry nods twice and mumbles something into the expensive shirt. Eventually his words turn to soft snores, and Liam is left with mixed feelings. Harry's issues go a lot deeper than ever expected and he isn't sure how to fix them. Is he happy for his friends? Absolutely. Is he confident Louis will take the pregnancy news well? Not so much. Liam lets his hand rest on Harry's waist, gently rubbing nonsense patterns with his fingers until eventually, he falls asleep too.

 

  
  
~ • ~

 

  
  
Liam wakes up first, and by 5:30PM, the two friends are on the road again, headed back to their office so Liam can get his car. He doesn't press Harry for any more information about the pregnancy or when he is going to see the doctor, and tell Louis, as the boy is in a much better head space since eating and having a nap. Liam simply listens as Harry talks through the list of fun things to do on their “workation”. It's a comfortable ten-minute ride, and Liam can't get enough of his friend's enthusiasm; it's quite refreshing, and hopeful. Harry still hasn't mentioned anything baby related, so Liam doesn't bring it up either. That's alright though; they will have plenty of time to talk more before they all leave for their trip on Thursday.

  
Harry pulls into the near-empty parking lot, and finds a space right next to Liam's car. He keeps the engine going but turns down the radio enough so he doesn't have to speak loud; he's a bit nervous to admit what he is about to say.

 

“Thank you for staying with me today. And...and cuddling. I needed that.”

 

“You're welcome, H. I had fun with you, I mean, it was nice spending time with you. Even though we slept for most of it.” They both laugh, and Harry leans over the gear shift to wrap his arms around Liam's muscular shoulders. “Glad you're feeling better. You're sure you'll be fine driving alone?”

 

“Oh,” Harry pulls back slightly,  “There's time, so no need for me to rush. I have to stop at the chemist's before picking up Louis, so...yeah, I'll be fine.”

 

It's been a roller coaster of a day, and as much as they both want to hang out all night, Liam knows that is something that will probably never happen; Louis is already jealous, and Niall thinks he and Harry are more than friends. Speaking of the Irish lad...

 

“I need to call Niall,” Harry finally releases Liam from the extra-long hug,  “it's been days…”

 

“Yeah, he misses you, and you know how Niall worries. Drives me crazy,” Liam chuckles, smoothing out the front of his shirt. “He was going on and on about how he can't wait for this trip so you guys can have some quality time together. If he's not talking about you, he's either asleep or eating.”

 

“Aww, Niall,” the flattered boy laughs. “I do miss living with him, sometimes. Don't tell him I said that though,” he gives Liam a wink before fiddling with the key chains dangling from the ignition. “We should hang out too...we can do that, right?”

 

Liam wasn't expecting that suggestion, or maybe he was; of course Liam wants them to be friends too but isn't Harry concerned about Louis? Maybe he should back off for a while...but he doesn't want Harry to feel rejected.

 

“I, I don't see why not. Hey, maybe we can go somewhere near the cabin...like the beach or to lunch or something. Take a break from work stuff and have fun. What do you think?”

 

“Sounds wonderful,” Harry smiles back at Liam with wide eyes. He loves the idea of spending time together, and getting to know his friend better without Louis around to make things awkward for no good reason. _We are just friends_.

 

“Well, I should set off now, let you get to the chemist's.” He notices Harry is still smiling at him as he steps out of the car. “Have a good night, Harry. I'll call you after nine tomorrow so we can get started on that template.”

 

“OK, Liam, g'night. See you tomorrow.”

  
~ • ~

  
  
While Harry drives the few blocks from his office building to Louis’ store, he can't wipe the dumb grin off his face; he's felt so good since waking up, and now he's not terrified of working with Liam anymore.  He's already taken care of letting Louis know about his time off, so Harry doesn't feel pressured to explain himself when he sees his boyfriend. He can pretend like today was a normal day, he never passed out, and he gets the next two days off as well. Tonight is definitely going to be much better than this morning.

 

He and Louis need travel-size toiletries for their trip, so Harry runs through the list in his head on the short walk from the car to the store. He grabs a shopping basket from the stack by the entrance, giving the kind woman at the counter a polite nod as he walks passed.

 

By the time he gathers everything on the list, there are several people waiting in line to check-out. Before long, it's just Harry and a brunette woman in front of him in the queue. She is talking on her phone with someone Harry assumes is a friend. Normally he wouldn't pay any attention to a stranger's conversation but something about this woman is familiar, and he can't tune her out.

 

“Yeah, they are all really nice, I think it will work out….Well the _job_ is fine but Lou wasn't very happy to see me, he stormed out...suppose it was my fault...I dunno, we haven't spoken in months.”

 

Sounds like someone else had a bad day too, Harry thinks to himself as they both step closer to the counter. Then it hits him. _Wait, what? No no, there are plenty of other people named Lou, she could be talking about anyone._

 

He observes the light blue t-shirt slung over her shoulder, it has the familiar logo of the ice cream shop down the road, so she must work there. In any case, Harry really shouldn't worry about that right now, because he needs to get next door before _his_ Lou wonders where the hell he went.

 

The young woman continues, “I'd love to, believe me. He still looks amazing.” She sighs hopelessly, plopping her purchases on top of the counter.

 

Maybe they were in a class together and that's where Harry remembers her from? He needs to see her face to know for sure. Perhaps he just heard her wrong, and he's fretting about nothing. As he creeps closer, he can hear muffled speech though the phone pressed against the woman's ear. Unaware of how close he is getting to this stranger, he leans forward; brow furrowed in concentration, straining to hear if either of them mention his boyfriend's name again.

 

A sudden burst of laughter completely startles Harry, sending him stumbling backwards into a spinning rack of greeting cards. The woman on the phone doesn't seem to notice the commotion behind her, and the chemist soon returns with a little white bag.

 

“Got to be at my next job in five minutes, we'll talk later, yeah?”

 

The time it takes for the woman to walk from the counter to the exit, goes by way too fast. Absolutely embarrassed, Harry continues to act like he wasn't just eavesdropping and nearly destroyed the front end of the shop. So caught up playing it cool, he misses the only chance he has to see her face.

  
Now it's his turn in line, and thankfully he is familiar with this female clerk as he has been shopping here at least once a week since he and Louis started dating. Basket in hand, Harry tiptoes up to the counter, afraid he'll knock into something else and end up owing hundreds in damages.

 

“You alright, Harry?” She asks quietly. “You look sweaty. No offense.”

 

Without looking up, Harry mumbles a yes, and drops a twenty pound note on the counter and kindly thanks the clerk before running out the door with his two shopping bags. It's already five passed six by the time he gets to the party shop. Luckily, the door is still unlocked.

 

“Can I help you?” An unfamiliar young man appears from the back room.

 

“Oh umm, I'm here for Louis,” Harry takes several steps deeper into the store. “Is he still here?”

 

“Yeah, he's in the back office. Just a minute, let me get him for you.”

 

“Thanks,” Harry smiles. He takes a stroll around the two aisles of the small shop, admiring all the new paper products, pinatas and birthday decorations Louis was _finally_ able to convince the owners to stock. Out with the old, in with the new. The fresh cut flowers in the chill case are beautiful this week; if Jim wouldn't notice a few missing, Harry would love to take home a small bouquet.

 

“Hazz? Sorry I'm a bit late, just closing up now, ba-” Louis bites his lip before he calls Harry _babe,_ and gives his boyfriend a discreet wink from across the store. “Have you met Cam yet, Harry?”

 

“Not properly,” Cameron announces cheerfully. He slings a backpack over his shoulders and extends a hand for Harry to shake.

 

“Hi, Harry. I'm Cameron. Call me Cam if you like. You're Louis’...roommate, right? Sorry, lots of new information today.”

 

“Yeah, that's right,” Harry swallows the lump his throat; he hates lying about their relationship but he respects Louis’ wishes. “Nice to meet you, Cam. So how do you like it here so far?” He's really not in the mood to make small talk but it's only polite; Louis hasn't pulled his hair out, so today must have gone well.

 

“I really enjoyed it. Louis makes work fun. I can't tie a balloon to save my life but he says I'll get it eventually.”

 

“You will, Cam!" Louis shouts encouragingly from the back room. “Keep practicing and you'll get it.”

 

Suddenly the lights above go out, leaving Harry and Cameron in the dark at the front of the store. They can barely see each other in the red glow of the lit exit sign above the door.

 

“Practice makes perfect I suppose.” Harry forces a smile even though Cameron can't possibly see it. All he can focus on his that woman... _who is she_? He's trying really hard to be polite in the midst of uncomfortable cramps, twisting the bag handles around his fingers anxiously. He's ready to go home now, he needs time alone with Louis.

 

“Ready to go, lads?” Louis emerges from the dark with his belongings stuffed back into the paper bag. It's been a very stressful day to say the least, and he hasn't spoken with his boyfriend in eleven hours; time to go home. If he's lucky, Harry won't ask if the other summer hire showed up. He doesn't want to think about Eleanor anymore today. Spending all day together in the small shop was brutal enough, and explaining everything to Harry tonight would just ruin their long-awaited evening. He will pretend like it was a normal day. _Everything is fine._  

 

~ • ~

 

Home. Finally, they've made it home and Louis can breathe once again. They agreed to take their dinner home since both of them are exhausted and would love to get an early night. Harry insisted Louis tell him about his day first.

 

“It actually went a lot better than expected," he lies quite convincingly. "Started out rough, I was worried about you all morning...didn't hear from you, so assumed you didn't get an appointment with the doctor...” 

 

“Oh, yeah,” Harry mumbles around a mouthful of Greek salad. “I was feeling better by lunchtime, and got caught up in work stuff. M'sorry. I, I didn't mean to worry you.” 

 

“I know you didn't mean to.” Harry is busy picking at his third slice of pizza, so Louis continues talking about his day, doing the best he can to leave out any mention of Eleanor. 

 

“Cameron is great, by the way. He's a good lad. Funny, lots of energy. I think we'll survive the season." He wipes some pizza sauce off his cheek with a napkin and gives Harry a wide smile. "Enough about me, how was _your_ day? Liam says you have tomorrow and Wednesday off.”

 

Harry stops picking at the pepperonis on the cold pizza slice, and turns around in his seat with big, worried eyes _._

 

“Umm yeah. Is that OK? Marc approved it.” This better not be a problem, because the thought of going back to work tomorrow is making him nauseated.

 

“Well yeah, of course! You deserve it, babe. You'll have plenty of time to relax before the trip. I know it's not really going to be a vacation for you..."

 

Louis starts asking him questions about his day at home with Liam, and although Harry wants to talk about the good parts of his day, he can't come up with an explanation as to what work they actually did; he can't say they cuddled on the sofa for most of the afternoon. Also, Liam is supposed to be coming over tomorrow. Today has been such an emotionally exhausting day, there isn't much more Harry can retain nor any deep emotions he wants to feel. 

 

“Lou?”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“I’m really tired.”

 

“Don't let me stop you, Harry. If you're tired, please go to bed.”

 

No, he wants Louis. Ever since snuggling on the sofa with Liam, Harry has been clingy; desperate for physical human contact.

 

“Cuddle with me, please?”

  
  
Not skipping a beat, Louis stuffs their empty paper plates into the rubbish, leaving the rest of their dinner mess for the morning. He then wordlessly wraps his arms around Harry's waist from behind, savoring the heat radiating off of Harry's skin, the sweet smell of his hair, and the way the boy's body slots perfectly against his own. He's been dying to hold Harry like this since he got out of the car this morning; not only because he yelled at the boy but also because it's been days since Harry has let him snuggle or do anything beyond hugging and the occasional kiss. Every time it seems like Harry is going to surprise him with something, the boy runs away to his office. Without question, Louis will gladly cuddle his boy all night long!

 

They spoon all the way to the bedroom, Harry flicking off the light switches as they go, and Louis playfully teasing him about all the goofing off he will be doing over the next couple days.

 

“I _will_ have to do some work, it's not exactly time off. I'd like to finish packing tomorrow though, and maybe FaceTime with mum on Wednesday. Don't forget Niall and Liam are coming over Wednesday night.”  

 

“Oh yeah,” Louis releases Harry from his arms just long enough for both of them to undress. So far it sounds like this week won't be a total bust after all. Harry will be busy during the day, he won't need to visit Louis at work, so there is no point stressing him out about Eleanor tonight. Louis has time to ease into that awkward conversation later, once he's found a delicate way of telling his boyfriend that he'll be working in close quarters with his ex-girlfriend. 

 

“Oh no,” Harry groans, instinctively wrapping his arms around his naked body. He forgot to replace the bed sheet!

 

“M'sorry! I'll do it….real fast, I got it, hold on!” The distressed lad totally forgot to even turn the washing machine on this morning, and now he's struggling to come up with a plausible explanation as to why the bottom sheet is missing; preferably one that doesn't involve the truth. Louis watches as Harry runs out of the room in search of clean linens, cursing under his breath and repeating apologies over and over. 

 

“Harry…Harry,  I can do it,” Louis calls after his boyfriend who comes running back into the bedroom with a wrinkled white sheet in his arms. Louis stops the frantic boy in his tracks, firm hands holding Harry's shoulders so he'll stand still.

 

“Please, Hazza. Stop. I'll make the bed. First though…” he releases Harry's shoulders and takes a step back. “Is this piss?”

 

Two sets of eyes land on the obvious urine stain in the middle of the bed. Harry sighs, utterly embarrassed.

 

“Yes. I'm sorry, it just kinda happened. I dunno if this one is even clean.”

 

_Poor lad, he doesn't deserve this bullshit. It's not his fault he couldn't make it to the toilet this morning._

 

“Don't worry, love, it's nothing we can't fix.”

 

When Harry's sad green eyes meet his, the older man's heart flutters and aches at the same time. He needs to make Harry smile, make him laugh and forget about this little accident; it really isn't a big deal at all.

 

“You know what we need?” Louis takes the wrinkled sheet from Harry's arms with a coy smile.

 

The last time Louis said something like this, he came over with two buckets of KFC and some of the trippiest Indica either of them have ever had. The intrigued boy shrugs, shaking his head slowly; he has no idea what Louis is talking about but he's not opposed to finding out. Any more food and he'll burst, however, something heavy to help him sleep through the night would be wonderful.

 

“Help me strip the bed, and then I'll roll us a surprise.”

 

 

~ • ~

 

 

“Hey, question,”  Louis taps Harry's shin with his foot. “If I were to put aside a hundred quid a week, how many months would it take to save up £11,000?”

 

Within seconds, the tired boy answers, “Twenty-seven and a half months. Give or take a week."

 

“ _How_ do you _do_ that?” Louis marvels.

 

“Do what?” Harry whines into the pillow. He has been looking forward to sleep since he woke up from his nap. Not only that, the seemingly constant fullness in his belly has subsided for the night, so he can lay comfortably on his side as little spoon.

 

“You're a human calculator _._ I love it _."_

 

“Thanks?” Harry laughs softly. “Can we sleep now please?” How can Louis still be so chatty? This new weed is knocking him out but it doesn't seem to be having the same effect on his boyfriend. _Wait a minute...I was supposed to do something tonight...or say something...was it a question for Louis?_...He honestly can't remember. All Harry knows is that he feels cozy and warm in bed with the man he loves, even if they are laying on top of bath towels, at least they are clean and dry. Louis’ hand feels so good roaming up and down his left side; fingertips trailing from his neck to his knee. Harry has missed being touched like this; he just hasn't felt sexy in any way since moving day.

 

“One more? Last one, I promise.”

 

Harry doesn't respond, so Louis playfully squeezes the boy's hip. He presses his body flush against Harry's back, and whispers in the boy's ear, “Where the fuck is Fiji?”

 

This is by far the funniest thing Harry has heard in weeks; another classic Lou moment he wants to remember forever. The only thing to make it better would have been seeing Louis’ clueless face. He can't stop giggling and shaking the bed, which makes Louis laugh too.

 

“Sou-sooouth Paaaacific!” Harry struggles to say as his laughing kicks up a notch thanks to Louis' relentless tickling.

 

“Knew it!” He nibbles Harry's shoulder. "Thanks for entertaining my curious mind. Caught a second wind there after eating I guess. Sorry. Hazz, want anymore?” He offers the last of the joint, holding it up to Harry's parted lips so the boy doesn't have to move. "I'll let you sleep now."

 

“G’nite, Boo," Harry exhales a thick plume of white; both men watch hypnotized as the dancing smoke dissipates into the air above them. He is ready to fall asleep now, not willing to fight it any longer, he already feels half asleep. Louis finds Harry's hand resting on the mattress near the boy's chest, and quickly takes it into his own. Their fingers link together effortlessly, making both of them sigh contently.

 

 _“Sleep now,_ ” Harry whispers, settling into Louis’ arms, “ _your baby needs sleep.”_

 

“ _Who_? _”_ Louis whispers back. Harry is moving their hands down to rest on his stomach, spreading their fingers out flat over the warm skin.

 

“The baby,"is all the boy says before his mumbling turns into snores.

 

Louis thinks the weed is making him hear things. He asks him one more time what he's talking about, but Harry is definitely asleep. Still not certain he heard his boyfriend correctly, Louis presses gently into the soft skin beneath their hands, and kisses Harry's neck just below his ear.

 

Once again the boy has fallen asleep before Louis could kiss him goodnight. There is no way he can sleep now, not without finding out what Harry meant.  _Maybe he's talking about being Daddy's Baby? Harry does need sleep, obviously. Who_ _else is my Baby?_ Louis goes through the few likely possibilities in his mind, purposely skipping over the most obvious answer again and again until he can't ignore it anymore.

 

 _Holy shit, my... **what**_ _? But Harry has never...how can...? No. No way, there's no way that's even possible. Ok it is, but Harry isn't a carrier. Is he?  They are so rare. Surely mum would have guessed it, right? She would have known and told me, yeah?_ _Harry would have told me...unless, he has been **trying** to tell me. _Shit.Shit.Shit.

 

Part of him wants to shake Harry awake so he can ask some serious questions but now is not the time. It's well after midnight, the poor boy finally got to go to sleep, and is snoring away blissfully.  _Wait 'til morning, ask him then. He was probably joking...Hazza and his bad jokes..._

 

All of this unexpected thinking has exhausted Louis, mentally and emotionally. With a defeated sigh, the confused and somewhat excited man reluctantly slides his hand out from under Harry's to pull the white duvet up and over their naked bodies. 

 

A soft moan escapes Harry's lips, prompting Louis to snuggle even closer and slide his hand back into place over the sleeping boy's belly. Maybe he's dreaming and they actually fell asleep hours ago; the past five minutes have been all too bizarre for this to be real, as amazing as it is. In this reality he can have his own biological children with the person he loves.  _ **My**  baby. _Louis will ride out this euphoric moment for as long as he can stay awake, whether it is real or not.  **Our** baby.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They boys will be going on their trip soon, which means more comedy, fluff, and of course it wouldn't be mpreg without a serving of angst 😉.
> 
> Thank you for reading, and waiting so patiently for this update!
> 
> Questions? Concerns? Let me know. Kudos and comments are love. XxPv


	7. Expect The Unexpected

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“No, I'll wait,” Louis shakes his head vehemently. It's wrong to go snooping in Harry's stuff, it's not right no matter how desperate he is for answers. Harry will wake up soon, and they'll talk, and he'll learn everything he needs to know. He picks up the metal box like it's a priceless Faberge egg, and sets it down gently next to the closed laptop._
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> __  
> **C'mon, open it. Open the damn box.**  
> 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again, lovelies! Hope you enjoy this happier chapter and think it was worth the wait. I wasn't anticipating such a delay, but unfortunately life was all sorts of messed up, basically a living hell everyday for two months. Thankfully things are looking up now, and the next chapter only needs proofreading. Thank you for hanging in there!
> 
> *** Be aware that there are WARNINGS/TRIGGERS for this story, including but not limited to: panic attacks, physical domestic and verbal abuse, miscarriage, and reference to abortion and rape. There may be more important warnings for future chapters, so **please always read the authors notes.** Thank you!

 

 

Before daylight, Louis wakes up slowly from an intense dream; one that has left him with a strange feeling, and a mild headache. He can't remember all of the fine details but it was definitely a weird one. His entire family was there at the nondescript dream location and Harry too; something about a talking guitar, a big vat of peanut butter, and… and… was it nipples? Whatever the bizarre premise was, the memory of it is lost now.

Naturally, the couple untangled their limbs during the night; Harry now on his stomach, and Louis sprawled out on his back. The latter rolls over onto his left side, squinting through the darkness in search of his phone to no avail _._ A light tapping on the windows means it's raining, and through the cracks in the blinds, Louis can see it's still quite dark outside. It can't be much later than three or four in the morning.

 _That's right, phone is charging in the kitchen_. _Fookin’ great._ _Harry must have set his alarm though, he never forgets._

Just to be sure, Louis rolls onto his other side, and reaches easily over Harry's sleeping body. It's cold and damp in the bedroom, meaning one of them must have left a window open overnight, undoubtedly Louis. _It better not be pissing down in Maine as well_ … he makes a mental note to check on the weekend weather forecast so they can pack their bags accordingly. After successfully retrieving Harry's phone without shaking the bed too much, he quickly settles back into the perfectly warm spot under the covers.

“Five AM? You're joking!” Louis whispers. Seriously, he couldn't have stayed asleep for another hour at least? It doesn't feel like he's slept at all! He better fall back asleep and stay asleep until the alarm goes off otherwise he'll be exhausted all day, and work will drag like hell. It's already going to be awful because Eleanor will be there with her perfectionist attitude, and apparent resentment towards him. He still isn't sure what to do about it; as much as he enjoyed working his way up to become Jim's right-hand man, it is way too weird being Eleanor's boss. The atmosphere at the shop has become unnecessarily awkward, and it's not fair to any of them, especially Cameron. Somehow Louis needs to find another full-time job that pays the same rate, if not more, because with Liam gone, he pays all the rent. That leaves him with _just_ enough for everything else. Harry's part-time job barely covers his own phone bill, petrol, and some food expenses; no where near enough to support them both.

If Louis can't find another job by the end of June, he'll have to suck it up, and get on with life, otherwise he'll end up walking out of the shop one day, leaving he and Harry in the shit. Man, this trip to a completely different continent cannot come soon enough! Louis desperately needs to get away from his problems for a while, and of course he wants everyone to have fun on their vacation. Since lunchtime yesterday, the frustrated man has been counting the hours until their plane leaves from Manchester.

Officially annoyed, Louis swipes on the alarm for 7am, foolishly thinking he'll be able to get ready for work in under fifteen minutes, locks the screen and blindly tosses the phone down between their covered feet. Letting his heavy, tired eyes close, he expels a defeated sigh; head falling back against the soft, cooled pillow.

_Sleep. Sleep. Gotta Sleep. Sleep. Sleep. Sleep. Sleep. C'mon sleep. Sleep. Sleep. The baby needs sleep._

Suddenly, Louis’ eyes spring open in shock. The memory of last night has returned, flooding him with worry. Sure, when he was high as a kite and all loved-up just a few hours ago, this sounded like an excellent idea. Analyzing the situation in a sober frame of mind, however, Louis feels like he has been lied to for months, and kicked in the metaphorical balls. He grips the towel beneath him in one hand, and covers his mouth with the other as to not startle his snoring, and possibly pregnant, boyfriend.

 _Pregnant? Harry's pregnant? There's a_ **_person_ ** _in there?_

 _But how did… when did…? I'm not ready for this… how did this happen!? I can't believe he didn't tell me! Yeah I want this but not right now._ _C'mon, man, why_ **_now?_ **_This isn't fair._

 _No, asshole, there's never a “good time” to have a baby, you know that. It's not like you're ever going to win the lottery or become a famous singer, making millions of pounds a year. Besides, don't pretend like you haven't wished for something like this to happen; for there to be some other way. Well here it is! You want this, and you want it now._  You've **_always_** _wanted to have a family, your own kids._

 _Gotta be there for Harry, he needs me. I want to marry him. He's carrying_ ** _our_** **_baby_** _, and he's my top priority. I can do this,_ ** _we_** _can do this. OK._

Just as soon as the positive thoughts begin to take over, more negative ones manage to sneak their way into Louis’ mind.

_Uh oh, who else knows? Niall, probably. Harry tells him everything. Would Harry tell Liam about this before me? They do see a lot more of each other now… and yeah, that's great and all... I guess. Ugh, what am I gonna do about you, Liam? Man needs a boyfriend, or a girlfriend... Someone who is **not** my Hazza._

_Need to call mum. I haven't even come out yet for fucks sake. Gay_ **_AND_ ** _a child out of wedlock..? She's going to hate this. Maybe she'll think it's great, and give me advice… or not. Anne is going to want to kill me, and we haven't even met yet! Oh this just keeps getting better..._

_**Breathe.** You don't know anything about anything yet, so do yourself, and everyone else a favor, and  **calm the fuck down**. _

_Is it seven yet? Can I wake him up now? He needs to rest though. Is the baby really sleeping too? How do we know? What if Harry doesn't want it? Is it even a baby yet or just a tiny speck? Exactly how pregnant is he? Fucking hell, how much time do we have!? Wait, I can figure this out...OK so when did we do it last?_   _Shit, how do you count the damn cycle days again? Wait, does Harry_   _ovulate_? _Does it even work like that? So many questions…_

Ten minutes Louis lays there, mind racing like mad. Ten seemingly endless, nerve racking minutes. He can't stay here any longer; it is time to get out of bed before his restless fidgeting disturbs Harry.

Without a second thought, Louis grabs his lighter off the nightstand, and slides out of bed. In the near darkness, he quietly gathers yesterday's clothes from the pile on the chair, all the while silently wishing Harry will wake up on his own and say something about the baby again.

Before leaving the room, he looks back at the sleeping boy snuggled under the blanket. Louis can't see much of anything from the doorway but luckily he has the image of Harry's beautiful sleeping face permanently engraved in his brain; pout pink lips parted ever so slightly, long dark eyelashes fluttering against pale cheeks; the adorable way Harry's nose twitches while he dreams, and those sweet-smelling curls stuck to his forehead. Louis makes his way to the bathroom with that pleasant snapshot at the front of his mind, praying these deep feelings he's now faced with, and the tightness in his chest, won't all be for nothing in the end.

 

**~ • ~**

 

Louis self-consciously holds his breath as he steps into Harry's dark office. He closes the door behind him slowly without making a sound, and flicks on the black desk lamp which illuminates only half of the cramped space. He has to wonder how Liam managed to sleep or do anything comfortably in this small, one-windowed room; it's way too claustrophobic in here for Louis' taste. If Harry likes it as an office though, well that's alright; at least the lock is gone.

Harry's personal laptop is set up in the middle of the wooden desk with random color-coded calendars, and printed photo proofs littering its surface. Typically, the younger lad keeps his work space neat and tidy, however, it looks quite the mess this morning. Louis isn't surprised though, since there have been more important things to be concerned about lately.

Unsure of why he is even in there or what he is looking for, the nervous man runs a hand through his messy hair, and plops down into the swivel chair behind the desk.

“ _Fuck!”_ Louis whisper-yells, jumping back onto his feet. He spins around quickly with both hands grabbing his bum to see what the hell he just sat on. Lo and behold, it's Harry's mysterious lunch box.

 _Open it. Go on, do it. Isn't this what you've been looking for, really? He's always hiding this thing in the back of your closet. There has to be_ **_something important_ ** _inside._

“No, I'll wait,” Louis shakes his head vehemently. It's wrong to go snooping in Harry's stuff, it's not right no matter how desperate he is for answers. Harry will wake up soon, and they'll talk, and he'll learn everything he needs to know. He picks up the metal box like it's a priceless Faberge egg, and sets it down gently next to the closed laptop.

_C'mon, open it. Open the damn box._

 

**~ • ~**

 

Harry wakes up feeling quite refreshed, as if he got an extra hour of dreamless sleep. The new weed they shared last night was just what he needed to get through the night. He hopes he didn't say anything stupid and embarrassed himself though; their evening had gone so well, and after getting a lot of things off his chest to Liam, he now feels empowered to be honest with Louis. Perhaps today won't be so bad.

After wiping the sleep from his eyes, Harry reaches out to grab his phone off the nightstand but it's no longer there. Confused, he climbs out of bed, and begins searching high and low for the missing device. It's not on the floor, and it's not under their pillows. Just as he's about to give up the search, a glimmer catches his eye at the foot of the bed. _How the hell did you get here?_

Oh no, someone turned off his alarm! It's 7:16am and they both should be getting in the car **_right now_ ** so he can drive Louis to work for 7:30am. The older man is not in bed, again, so he must be pacing by the front door, about to have a meltdown over being late for the second day in a row.

With a yelp, the rushed lad immediately runs to the bathroom to wee and quickly squeeze into a dirty pair of black skinny jeans and a wrinkly white v-neck t-shirt. That familiar nausea hasn't crept up yet but it's only a matter of time; the mild twinges in his belly have become a telltale sign that whatever he ate recently is due to come back up at some point soon.

Harry doesn't see or hear Louis anywhere in the bedroom or living room, so he shuffles briskly toward the kitchen. _Maybe he's already in the car? What is going on?_

Then he sees it, a folded piece of lined paper placed purposely on the counter beside the ceramic jar of tea bags. He gulps, picking up the note, and proceeds to read the black ink scribbles aloud.

_Morning, Hazza. It's nearly seven now. Have to run out for a bit but I'll be back soon. Don't worry, nothing bad. Will explain later. Love you xx L_

“What? Nothing bad?” Harry drops the note and takes a step back from the counter. If Louis isn't going into work this morning, something must be wrong; he doesn't miss a day even when he's sick! Then again, maybe something extremely good happened, and the anxious lad is worrying for nothing. In any case, it looks like he'll have to wait here until Louis returns to find out what the hell is going on.

 

**~•~**

 

It's been raining fairly heavily since last night yet there is something soothing about it this morning. The steady rhythm follows Louis the whole way down the road and back, giving him a complex beat to hum along to while tapping his fingers on the newly discovered _'Male Carriers: Your Body and You’_ trifold pamphlet  tucked away safely in his left jacket pocket.

Surprisingly, he wasn't having a stroke like he feared, but after finding his boyfriend's little box of big secrets, sitting around chain smoking in the living room certainly wasn't doing him any favors. Once Louis snuck out stealthily from Harry's office, the emotional man didn't dare go back into their bedroom, nor did he touch anything in the kitchen for fear of making too much noise. The longer he sat around reading through medical pamphlets from the clinic, the more anxious he became. After memorizing the box instructions for a home pregnancy test he couldn't find, all the guilt set in.

He didn't let Harry speak in the car yesterday when he should have given the boy his undivided attention. Louis didn't even give Harry a chance, he yelled, and quite clearly scared the boy into submission. Even Harry's demeanor last night was off, like something was bothering him but he didn't want to mention it. No wonder Harry doesn't want to discuss being a carrier, and runs away when it's time to have their "talk". Now it all makes sense; one minute Louis is fine, then he's all of a sudden angry, and annoyed. Why does the younger lad put up with this crap? Louis' words about himself were not flippant, he _genuinely_ thinks he is a shitty boyfriend. He can't even listen for fucks sake! Something has to change, **_Louis_ ** needs to change, otherwise he'll lose Harry, and any chance of them having a future together.

The nearest bakery to their flat opened at 6am, so Louis decided to take a walk there to get some of Harry's favorites. Sure that makes one less treat they'll be able to enjoy on vacation, but today is important. This is a pinnacle time in their relationship, and today will become one of the most important days of their lives. Whether Harry is pregnant or not, the boy is definitely a carrier, and that's reason enough to celebrate! Surprising his boyfriend with something sweet after being such a jerk is the least Louis can do.

It's not easy, however, keeping away the doubts that none of this is real. _What if we can't have children together after all? What if something goes wrong?_ For Louis, good fortune like this is just too good to be true. Awesome things don't happen for him very often, and when they do, they quickly turn sour. The only exception to this rule has been Harry; maybe the boy broke the curse?

Despite his best efforts to keep dry the items he's carrying, the integrity of the wet pastry-filled paper bag is weakening fast, and Louis’ sleeves are soaked through. Everything he touches is slippery, and cold; he mentally curses himself for not planning this impromptu excursion more efficiently, perhaps taking an umbrella or at least wear a proper jacket.

After a few deep breaths, Louis kicks another pebble off the wet pavement. His shaking thumb presses the green call button with great hesitation, as if something terrifying is about to pop out of the screen. As nervous as he is to make this call, he knows there is only one person he can talk to before confronting Harry. Someone who knows about this stuff, someone he can trust. 

There is no one waiting at the bus stop in front of their flat, so he ducks under the open enclosure just as the line starts ringing. He carefully places the ripped bag, and Harry's pea-greensmoothie down beside him on the metal bench.

_OK, you can do this. Just ask. Don't elaborate, don't be an idiot, and for the love of god, do not cry._

The phone picks up on the third ring, and when Louis hears his mother's voice on the other end, a much needed calmness washes over him.

“You're up early, stranger,” Jay greets her son jokingly. “Didn't think I would hear from you until Thursday evening. What did you do?”

Louis grins wide, pulling at one of the braided white drawstrings hanging down from the hood cinched tight around his head. Right now he'd love one of her squeezy bear hugs; even though he can't be honest with her all of the time, and their personalities are so similar they often argue over nothing, she has been the most solid person in his life, and he loves his mother more than anyone in this world. Well, maybe not more than Harry but that love is different…

“Hi, mum. Just out for a walk... it's raining though, so… yeah.” It's been nearly three months since he's seen his family, and even longer since he and Jay had a _real_ conversation. Their last phone call didn't count, because all they discussed was his and Harry's plans for their visit at the end of the month. He can't remember the last time he and his mother just _talked_.

“A walk? Is that really why you called me before eight on a Tuesday?” She still has a cheeriness in her voice which causes guilt bricks to tumble down hard on Louis; just like the heavy rain pelting the plexiglass roof above.

“Aren't you working today?”

“I'm supposed to be,” Louis shrugs, staring off in the direction of their flat. He would love to see Harry peek out from the bedroom window and see him sitting here. He's incredibly anxious to return _before_ Harry wakes up. He just realized that the boy may freak out when he discovers his phone has been tampered with, and no one else is home. Also, the note he left in the kitchen wasn't very informative.

He forgets Jay is waiting for an answer, and continues to breathe heavily into the phone, heart pounding.

“Is everything alright?”

"Umm…"

“What's wrong? You've got me worried now.”

“Well... you know how Liam got the new job he wanted, right? Well, he moved out last week, and me other mate moved in. It's been cool so far, but now I'm a bit worried 'cause... I mean, this is totally random, but what do you know about male carriers?”

By the time the last rushed syllable leaves Louis’ mouth, his lungs are so desperate, he gasps. _Did any of that make sense? What is wrong with you!?_ That was **so** not how he wanted to start this conversation. It's not fair dumping all of this on his mother over the phone, but he can't help it; he's nervous and kind of scared despite all the joy in his heart. Seconds pass and there is still nothing but silence on the other end.

“Mum? Hello?”

“Male carriers?” Jay finally speaks, tone low, and slow. She doesn't sound so cheerful anymore, like she knows her son has done something wrong and is skirting the truth.

“ _Yeah_ … Look, if it's weird telling me this stuff, you don't have to. I just know you're more reliable than the internet, I trust you-”

“You're talking about Harry, aren't you?" Jay cuts him off. "He's a carrier?”

Beads of sweat are beginning to mix with the raindrops on Louis’ face. There's no turning back now.

"Yes. Yes, but how did you know? And why didn't I?”

“Sorry,” Jay continues. “I've just always... had a feeling? Maybe it's because I've been doing this for so long...”

Louis quirks an eyebrow and dares to be sassy, “being a midwife or having babies?”

“Both! When I met Harry, it's like I _just knew_ there was something special about him, something unique. He’s also such a sweet boy, he's caring, and incredibly thoughtful. Now you're living together, that's wonderful! So… when did you find out? How did he tell you? Was it a surprise?”

Louis swears he heard his mother stifle a squeal. He still can't believe she didn't mention anything or even hint at the fact that she's _just known_ about Harry being a carrier all of this time.

“No, I just happened to find out this morning, by accident," he frowns. "You know, I really wish you had told me about this sooner, mum. He's my- he is very important to me, and I've been freaking out here."

“I understand that, but it's not my place to tell anyone anything. Besides, Harry is still the same person he was yesterday, no need to freak out. There are probably few people who know considering male carriers are so rare. Gay male carriers even more so, like extremely rare. I've only met one other MC in my life and that was well before I had you, and he had a wife. Harry is a unicorn, love.”

“That makes sense, but still, one of you should have said something a long time ago. It's just… scary, y'know? For some reason Harry doesn't want to tell me what's going on. Like yesterday he woke up with sleep paralysis, and he didn't tell me until the last second, like he didn't want to upset me. Then I remembered, **_you_** had that when _**you**_ were pregnant, and it wasn't good. He doesn't like going to the doctor, so he's definitely not going unless I drag him there, but we're leaving for the States in two days. What am I supposed to do?”

“Oh.my.god. Harry is pregnant!? Louis William Tomlinson, when did this happen!?”

Louis instantly cringes, pulling the phone far away from his ringing eardrum. His mouth is betraying him big-time and Jay's positive outbursts are beyond confusing.

“Shit! I don't know!” He shouts back at his mother, looking up again at the building. If any windows are open, people inside definitely heard him.

“Hey! Don’t yell at me,” she scolds, “I'm trying to help you.”

“Sorry,” Louis sighs, unsure if she's playing games with him on purpose or if she is genuinely excited by the news. How can she possibly know it's her grandchild they're talking about? As far as she knows, her son is straight, single, and Harry is just a good friend who tagged along last year on his and Liam's annual Christmas holiday visit.

“Wow. Wow OK. Let's see... Now from what I've learned, there can be certain complications during the third trimester, and labor; it really is a case-by-case kind of situation throughout the entire pregnancy, with a lot of different factors to consider. Unfortunately, there is a higher risk of miscarriage. If he isn't already, make sure Harry takes prenatal vitamins, and sees his doctor as soon as possible. Even if they can't see anything on a scan, they can test hormone levels. If he takes care of himself, and has a doctor familiar with high-risk pregnancies, then his experience should be very much similar to that of a female.” Jay pauses just long enough to take in a breath.

“Oh wow, Lou. I can't wait for you two to get here! Not long now! I'm so happy you invited him to come along! The girls are going to flip when they hear about this. There is so much to talk about, so much to plan!”

Louis can't even speak; his eyeballs hurt from holding back frustrated tears, and his brain is on overload. Feeling totally overwhelmed by all the medical information, despite Jay's positive reaction, Louis can't get passed the words “miscarriage” and “high-risk”. The materials in Harry's lunchbox didn't say anything about this; the boy is not a science experiment, so what the hell does “case-by-case” mean!?  There is no way Louis will be able to digest all of this if his mother keeps rambling so fast. She's talking as if the entire family has been on standby just waiting for something like this to happen.

“...I'll definitely send you two home with food, lots of good, _healthy_ food… are you still smoking?...”

“Mum..?”

“... there's so many infant clothes packed away, we should go through them together! We should have Harry's family over as well, don't you think?"

“Mum! I told you, I'm not sure if we're having a baby yet, so please don't get excited." Louis sniffles as he wipes his dripping nose with the back of a hand. He told himself not to cry, dammit, and now he's all emotional. Then it hits him; he just spilled the earth-shattering truth, and there is no way to backtrack.

“I... I didn't… I mean... I'm not...”

“Oh, Louis,” Jay sighs sadly. "For _once_ I wish you would tell me the whole truth. Not because you _have_ to but because you know _I love you,_ no matter what. I don't understand why you don't talk to me anymore about your life, who you are with, or your plans for the future. It all seemed to stop before you met Eleanor. You've been miserable for a long time, BooBear. Then you met this boy who makes you so happy. The happiest I have seen you since you were little! Did you think I wouldn't notice, Louis? I feel like I'm missing out on my son's life for no good reason… and it's not fair. It's not fair to you, and especially not fair to Harry."

Playing dumb, Louis switches phone-holding hands and scoffs into the device.

“What are you talking about? I wasn't miserable,  just... El deserved better so I broke it off, and then I happened to meet Harry through Liam. So?"

Jay hums sarcastically, “Hmm, do I have to bring up Christmas morning for you to admit it? I'm not deaf, Lou. The twins' bedroom is right next to yours, and this house has very thin walls." She laughs heartily, embarrassing her son even more.

“Yeah...? I was there...” So was Harry and his amazing cock-sucking mouth. _Shit_! 

Jay sighs again, completely exasperated, and Louis can tell she has had enough of him feigning ignorance.

“Right. Well since you're the only one who has a problem with _who you are_ , I suppose the rest of the family will bond with Harry while you sort out your priorities. I only hope that before my first grandchild is born, you will realize how selfish you've been, and _finally_ admit to us that you're gay. That's all any of us ever wanted, BooBear. If not for yourself, do it for Harry and the baby. _Please_."

 

**~•~**

 

Harry made it through two complete episodes of _Friends_ before needing to take the longest piss of his life. Good thing he sat down for that one otherwise he would have fallen asleep on his feet. Aside from the obvious anticipation of Louis returning home, Harry is hungry; stomach-rumbling and starting to ache. There isn't much left in the kitchen to constitute as a snack, nevermind a full meal, as neither of them have gone food shopping since the weekend. Their plan was to live on take out until they leave home on Thursday; Niall and Liam are doing the same as well. If Harry didn't pass out yesterday, he would have made it to the chemist's, the bank _and_ the supermarket for more bread, milk, and some fizzy drinks and whatnot to see them through. Oh well, he'll just wait until Louis gets back to decide what to do about groceries, and then they can rock-paper-scissors for who has to go out and get them.

Feeling unusually high-spirited on such a strange morning, Harry doesn't need to think about rolling a joint or packing a bowl to feel _normal._ Instead, he ignores the mild heartburn rising in his throat, and saunters back to the bedroom with a bounce in his step.

As much as he'd like to rest his head in bed for a while, he really wants to stay alert for when Louis returns. Reading will only make him sleepy, and he can't seem to focus on the telly anymore. He doesn't see the point in shaving or showering since he did that yesterday, so why not give himself a quick manicure?

Thinking back, Harry rather enjoyed having long, painted nails for Halloween, and the week that followed. He felt pretty, sexy, a little more like himself. By then, it had been quite some since the teen indulged himself in any _girly_ things like painting his nails, hair braiding, and shaving his legs. Sam hated all of it, of course; he never understood Harry's personal taste nor did he respect the young lad's self-expression. Harry would love to wear some fun colors like red, aqua, or the awesome neon purple he saw at the chemist's, however, he hasn't felt courageous enough to buy anything other than boring clear. Fearing he will be made fun of severely, he continues to stick with clear polish, and annoying, scratchy legs.

On the way to the door, bottle of Clear in hand, he stops in front of the full-length mirror opposite the bed. There's definitely more pink in his cheeks today, which is reassuring since he's scared of passing out again, especially while home alone.

With a serious brow, he turns his entire body around to check out his denim-clad bum in the mirror. Large hands smooth the white shirt over his flat stomach before bunching up the loose fabric in a fist at the base of his spine. Harry looks on amusedly as the soft white cotton stretches, becoming nearly see-through over his skin. Really he doesn't need to be wearing this outfit if he's not going anywhere, and these black jeans are tight around his slightly swollen hips. The polish is swiftly thrown onto the bed, and Harry unbuttons his jeans with haste.

As if being summoned, two long fingers go straight to the sore spot where the annoying metal button had been pressing into the soft, pale flesh. _Sorry_ , he apologizes silently to the tiny life inside of him, _that must not have felt very nice for you either._

Although he's been struggling to accept this pregnancy, and the fact that Louis may not want it at all, the thought of aborting another one is simply out of the question. Despite every doubt and fear he has of Louis reacting negatively to the news, Harry wants this baby. Ideally, he wants to keep having Louis' babies but if the older man really wants to end their relationship over this, Harry is still keeping their baby. _His_ child, _his_ gift.

The first time Harry was pregnant, for a few minutes here and there, the eighteen year old found himself kind of excited. Was he nervous? Yes. Scared? Of fucking course he was scared. There was no denying, however, that the intense joy he felt when those two pink lines appeared, was undoubtedly real. Each new sensation so foreign and exciting; the doctors and scans weren't lying, he really can get pregnant! And his father didn't leave their family for nothing. For a brief moment in time, Harry felt proud to be a carrier. He was in control.

That moment was unfortunately short-lived since Sam considered getting an abortion as emotionally and physically tolling as getting a haircut at the salon. Harry shouldn't have been so depressed about the decision though, because he soon realized he didn't want Sam to father his children anyway. **Ever**.

After discovering he was pregnant for the second time, that same giddy feeling never came. There he was in the middle of a gigantic mess; being passed around between an abusive pimp and random men he wouldn't know from Adam. Any one of them could have been the other father, and it still haunts the boy to this day. No way could he attach himself emotionally to another mistake that would be wiped out of existence just a few days later anyway.

For the first time in his life, Harry is ready to fight for something he knows in his heart is worth holding on to. Even if he has to go it alone, he won't be without support; he'd still have Mum, and surely Gemma will forgive him (finally) for all the shit he pulled last year if her only brother is having a baby. There's no guarantee Liam will side with him over Louis but he is confident Niall will always be there, through thick and thin, night terrors, babies, and breakups.

Over the constant drumming of rain on the windows, Harry can hear Liam's comforting words from yesterday echo in his mind. Everything that happened with Sam wasn't his fault, and he needs to stop blaming himself for everything that monster did or forced him to do. This includes feeling guilty for the abortions, for all the times he should have told his mum the truth, and lying to loved ones foolishly thinking he was protecting them.

Shaking off the plethora of negative thoughts before he falls down the rabbit hole, Harry turns sideways in the mirror, sticking out his belly as far as it will extend without hurting.

“Hi, um, little one. It's me, Harry. I mean, Dad, Daddy? Hmmm. I've never done this before… I think I'm gonna talk to you everyday so you know I'm here. Well, I'm always here but you know what I mean. Uugh, no you don't. Is this stupid? I feel a bit stupid. Sorry."

Feeling like a fool for basically having a conversation with himself, Harry sighs softly, and faces forward once again. His hands caress the lower half of his belly while glassy green eyes stare at the non-existent bump through the mirror. He can only imagine how his body will look in a few months' time. Will he have a bump? Will he look pregnant in any way? Will people treat him differently? Better? Worse?

“If you stop making me throw up all the time, that would be great. _We need to eat,_ baby. I read it's a good sign actually, means you're still growing. I've got heartburn now too, so that's good. Weird, yeah, I know…" He pokes twice at the springy skin below his belly button.

"Hey, if you’d like to learn more random facts no one asked for, or ever need help with your math courses, I'm the dad for that. Oh! Yeah, baby, you have another daddy too. He… he doesn't know about you yet but he will soon, I promise. Think you'll look more like him or me? I hope you can sing like him… he's really good but he'll tell you he's terrible. You'll love him, definitely."

Harry continues staring into the mirror for a long moment, palms pressed against his rumbling tummy.

“I _really_ hope he's gonna love you too.”

 

**~ • ~**

 

“What?”

Harry shakes his head and continues peeling the wax paper off a warm raspberry muffin. It was incredibly thoughtful of Louis to surprise him like this but from the moment his boyfriend arrived home, wide blue eyes have been following him everywhere. Now Louis is just sitting on the edge of the sofa, watching him eat. The man is not even bothering to be discreet about it.

“What?" Louis shrugs with a smile. He had been three steps away from the bedroom door by the time Harry started talking to their baby. He listened from out in the hall, undetected, back flat against the wall. He had a perfect view of his gorgeous boyfriend rubbing his belly in the mirror. Now that's all Louis can see when he looks at him, and the sight is surreal. His body wants to take Harry right here on the sofa but his brain isn't allowing it.

“Seriously, _what,_ Louis?”

“Can’t I look at you?” The man in question shifts an inch closer, knee knocking into Harry's just as the boy swallows a mouthful of smoothie.

“Yeah but you're staring at me. Did…" Harry's eyes fall to the plastic cup on the table as he slowly licks the crumbs off his freshly painted fingertips. He's a little afraid to ask what he's thinking but it's basically become second nature.

"Did I do something? You still haven't told me why you're not going to work."

Instantly Louis’ rapturous grin melts into a heartbroken frown. He shakes his head before brushing back the damp fringe from his eyes. The sight of Harry licking his own fingers has him flustered, so he must look away.

“No, Harry. **_I_ ** did. And I'm not going anywhere until after we talk. ”

Harry's worried face doesn't change, so without saying a word, Louis plucks the muffin from the boy's hand, and sets it down on the glass table.

Before Harry knows it, two arms engulf him; one hand slides down to support the swell of his back, the other gently grasping the neck of his shirt.

“You wanted to tell me something important yesterday, and I didn't let you speak," Louis' voice has lowered to just a whisper. "I get it's difficult for you to talk about certain things, with anyone, and trust has a lot to do with that. I realize now that I've only made it worse. The pressure I've put on you, Harry… you don't deserve any of that. I'm so, so sorry. I can't apologize enough. You on the other hand, haven't done anything wrong. You're perfect.” On the brink of tears, Louis squeezes Harry in his arms very carefully.

 _“Please_ tell me what you wanted to say yesterday. I need to know.”

“But you won't like it,” Harry whispers back in a quiet, hoarse voice, lashes blinking rapidly to keep back the river of tears.

“I won't be upset if you just tell me.”

“OK but… can I wee first, please?"

Louis nods, reluctantly letting Harry out of his grasp. He watches the boy walk out of the room, and with a big deep breath, pulls the stolen pamphlet from out of his damp jacket pocket. Guilty eyes shift left, then right, before he wedges the crinkled paper between his thigh and the sofa cushion. The lump in his throat is back. He hopes Harry won't get worked up and make himself sick; the lad is already looking a shade paler than when Louis returned home. The last thing they need is for Harry to pass out and hurt himself, and the maybe-baby.

In less than a minute, Harry returns with his glittery metal lunchbox under one arm, and something else hidden in his closed fist; just a bit of white plastic peeking out.

“That was fast. What’s this?” Louis inquires gently, eyes trailing Harry’s face as the younger boy sits back down beside him. Obviously the boy didn't go to the loo. Did he notice that one of his box's many contents is missing? Louis can't help but grin even though Harry will probably be mad at him for snooping. It was well worth it!

“It’s all my stuff,” Harry offers simply. “I’ve been wanting to tell you something for a long time...like, since we met but I thought.... I really hope you don’t think it’s bad. A lot of people do...”

Louis bites his lip, waiting patiently as Harry opens the box. The boy picks out a blue tri fold pamphlet from the bottom of the stack, and encourages him to take it.

“This will help if you have questions. I'm not good at explaining how it all works.”

Louis can’t read the text on the paper thanks to Harry’s long fingers wrapped around the damn thing but he's confident it's the one with all the anatomical diagrams; tubes and uteruses, blood vessels and muscles. He clears his throat and admits calmly, “Harry, I don't have to read it, I know what it says… I read them all this morning.” His eyes are transfixed on that _thing_ in Harry's other hand.

" _You did what?_ "

“Sorry, I couldn't help it... Is that..? Did you take a test?” The excited man doesn't waste another second. Louis effortlessly snatches what he assumes is a pregnancy test from Harry's hand, and flips it over just inches away from his own face, eyes lit up like Christmas.

“Positive. This means positive!"

The double pink lines are faded but they are most definitely there! With the test still at eye level, Louis peers over it to watch Harry's expression morph from anxious to petrified. The sight hurts him deeply.

“Don't be upset, Harry, _please_.” Louis clenches the test in his hand before encircling Harry in his arms again. He pulls his body in close, making sure not to smother the boy's face.

“I’m sorry!” Harry wails loudly into Louis’ shoulder. He shouldn't be the one getting upset, he's the one who has been lying and keeping secrets all this time. Louis has every right to hate and mistrust him now; Harry doesn't understand why his boyfriend is being so nice, it's confusing and totally unexpected.

A throbbing pain in his temple makes Harry cry harder. His throat is closing, heart is pounding, vision narrowing, and his hands are going numb. He's about to throw up then pass out, he just knows it.

“I didn't mean to! I'm always careful but when you… ” the sobbing lad's voice hitches as his stomach does a big summersault. "You used the wrong lube, Lou, and didn't wear a condom. I'm sorry but I didn't know…"

Louis pulls back to rest his cheek on Harry's temple. The boy is going to make himself sick if he keeps crying like this. It's undoubtedly clear Louis' mistake has been tearing Harry up for weeks, and he was only making it worse. The boy may have kept being a carrier a secret, but Louis is the one who messed with Harry's prep without consent. He doesn't like how uncomfortably warm Harry's body is getting; he's sweating right through the cotton t-shirt and is beginning to shake.

“Hazz, please breathe, babe. C'mon,” He leans back to get a better look at the pregnant boy's complexion. Harry is ghostly white, he's clammy, and grabbing onto Louis’ forearm like there's no tomorrow.

"I should have told you about being a carrier, I'm sorry! I wasn't trying to trick you or make you stay with me… I swear. If you really don't want us, Lou... I don't know what to do!"

Sure Harry is only nineteen, too young to have to raise a child and be so responsible, yet at the same time, both of them want to have a family someday. So what if someday is not that far away?

“Look at me, please." Louis takes his hand off of Harry's neck and cups the boy's chin. He can tell that Harry is struggling to keep his eyes open, and is still trying to apologize while on the verge of fainting.

"Shhh, focus on breathing.” Louis also reminds himself to breathe otherwise he'll pass out too. Now he can see the dried bite on Harry's lip, and another twinge of guilt pangs his heart.

“Is this all you've eaten today?"

Harry nods, loose curls falling from the disheveled bun atop his head.

"Did you smoke? I won't be mad if you did, I just need to know."

"No," Harry whines, still clinging to Louis for dear life, eyes squeezed tight. This lightheaded feeling is all too similar to what he experienced yesterday at the office, except this time he can barely speak. Who is he kidding? Harry doesn't want to raise their baby on his own, without Louis, his soulmate. He simply can't accept a life with Louis’ baby but not Louis. All he can muster, however, are stuttered ramblings between erratic breaths.

" _Please don't hate us... don't leave..._ ”

The older man's voice is caught in his throat. All the emotions that have built up over the past twenty-four hours, and now Harry's desperate plea, have Louis full-on sobbing and it won't stop. Every time he opens his mouth, only more desperate noises come out, his arms won't move, and his heart is physically aching. It's like a weird deja vous; not his own memory but someone else's. He remembers the way Liam described Harry falling apart in his arms the night they met, it was a lot like this. Harry is completely losing his shit right now, and Louis is unable to comfort him properly, because he is just as emotional.

“Hazza,” Louis cries, heart aching for having made his boyfriend feel so alone, and scared. “I'm not leaving,” he sniffles, eyes squeezing more hot tears onto Harry's soft curls. “I love you. I love you so fucking much, it hurts. Don't want you to be upset, it's alright, it's alright,” Louis coos, dropping the test on to the cushion so he can rub big circles on Harry's back.

It's as if Harry chose to stop listening so he cannot hear Louis’ imminent heart-shattering rejection. The boy continues to cry, albeit a lot quieter, allowing Louis to step up and make things right.

“Was I surpised and disappointed you didn’t tell me you were a carrier _before_ we slept together? Yes, just a little. But only because if I knew sooner, we could have planned this. I definitely don’t hate you or the baby, please never ever think that, OK? I love you more now, if that’s even possible. I agree it's my fault you're pregnant but it's absolutely **_not_ ** a bad thing. We're gonna be a family… that's exciting, yeah? You, me, our baby, babies, I can't wait to find out. ”

Louis pulls back just enough to brush the hair out of Harry's eyes, and tuck a few strands behind the shaking boy's ear. Both hands stop at the center of Harry's sweaty back.

“Breathe, babe, please. C'mon now. Everything is alright. Lots of people love us, and they're going to help us. We can do this, Hazza."

Harry is listening again, and can't believe his ears; Louis’ reaction is the total opposite of what he expected! The older man is so calm and mature right now, Harry is in shock.

“Y-you’re not breaking up with me?” He swallows hard, pushing down on Louis’ forearm, not realizing just how much force he's using. He still can't look his boyfriend in the eye; the corners of his vision occasionally going fuzzy then black.

“Never. You'd have to kill me.” Louis doesn't sound like he's been crying yet his puffy red eyes give it away.

Harry nods agreeingly, blinking rapidly. “And you want to keep it? You really want to do this with me?”

“Yes! Of course I do. Honestly, Harry, **this** is the life I want. With you, and however many children we have together.”

“But you said-”

“I know what I said but I didn't mean it in the way I said it. I didn't explain anything, I'm sorry. I just… I realize today just how selfish I've been, making you lie for me, keeping _us_ a secret, all that shit. I talked with mum. Finally." Louis rips off a big chunk of muffin for Harry to eat before either of them say anything else.

Once his full vision returns, Harry urges his boyfriend to continue; he needs to know why Louis has been so against them having children, and what Jay had to say. Did he finally tell her about their relationship? Does she know he's a carrier? He leans against Louis’ arm, and opens his ears as to not miss a word.

“I’ve been torn about this all me life,” Louis admits sadly, “never had a real dad, as you know, but I've _always_ wanted to be one to my own kids, ever since I can remember. I was in serious denial for years though. Dated girls in college, and uni, thinking I'd change over time, and become _normal,_ like I _assumed_ everyone expected and wanted me to be. I gave up on having a family shortly before I met you, because I wanted my own biological kids, me and my _husband's_ children, not with a woman I don't love. All the alternative options you and I discussed before, even adoption, are wonderful, don't get me wrong, it's just...” Louis expels a big, exasperated sigh, averting his gaze to the sweaty hand clung desperately to his forearm.

“If I can't have kids with the man I love, then I don't want them at all. Is that selfish? Probably, yeah, but it's how I feel. Didn't think I would ever have that chance until last night… when you told me my baby, **our** baby, needs sleep. We were both so stoned, Harry, oh my god. I thought you were joking! Was dying to wake you up, but I... I just couldn't. I went through your things," he gestures at the box in Harry's lap. "That wasn't right, I am sorry for doing that. I won't do anything like that again, I promise. Have to say I'm glad I did though because all of this forced me to be honest... and well, now she knows everything."

"Lou," Harry sighs empathetically. There really isn't much more he can say. His lips leave a soft kiss on Louis' cheek before letting his weary head rest on the older man's shoulder. He knew his boyfriend had anxiety issues with coming out, and just family dynamics in general, but he didn't know Louis had been living in such agony for years.

"Was she upset? Does she still want us to visit? Wait, does she know about me?"

"She's not upset at all. The total opposite in fact." He takes Harry's right hand in his, squeezing it assuringly. "She already knew about your gift, which I guess isn't too surprising, because she's amazing like that. She sort of knew about us... and I kind of accidentally told her you're pregnant. Anyway, rest assured she is thrilled, and wants to meet your mum soon... you know, sometime, after we tell her, together."

Louis swallows hard, releasing Harry's hand to carefully press his palm to the pregnant boy's belly. "My whole family is going to pamper and pester the shit out of you," he chuckles softly, seeing his boyfriend smiling wide in his peripheral vision. "I think they all want this just as much as we do."

"I _told_ you they would still love you. Thank you, Louis, for... everything. I don't, I'm so... like... just..."

"Happy? I hope?"

"Yes, so fucking happy." Harry nuzzles into Louis' neck, savoring his boyfriend's smell; detergent mixed with cigarette smoke, faint vanilla, and spring rain. He could easily sit here and huff this intoxicating scent all day, everyday for the rest of their lives. He places his hand on top of Louis', feeling eternally grateful for everything his boyfriend has done for them today.

"Thank you, Boo. So much, you have no idea." He seriously doubted Louis would ever come out to his family, and now that it has finally happened, the joy in his heart is absolutely immense. Now the happily expecting couple can be proud of who they are together, no more lying to loved ones, no more pretending; their families can meet, and get to know each other before the baby is born. This is another dream come true! Now, Harry must be honest with his own mother and sister; an endeavor in which he'll definitely need Louis' support.

“Chocolate.” Louis taps Harry's belly button playfully, a smile tugging at his lips.

Harry sits up, and releases his grip on Louis' arm to run a free hand over both tear-stained cheeks.

“What about it?”

“You should eat some. Will raise your blood sugar real fast," the older man reasons. "Don't want you passing out.” He remains seated while Harry blows his nose into a crumpled napkin, taking his sweet time. The boy seems to be moving in slow motion, and talking even slower than normal.

“Oh right.” Harry sniffles, “chocolate is wonderful.”

“Hell yeah it is! And so are you." Once Harry stuffs the snotty napkin into his jeans' pocket, Louis leans forward to kiss his boy on the lips.

"You taste good," the energetic man hums happily into Harry's ear, using all of his self-control to pull away before their tender moment turns into a hot and heavy makeout session. "Be right back," he sprints off the sofa like a bat out of hell, nearly tripping over the raised leather footrest on the way to the door.

Confused, the curly-haired teen gently turns his upper body around, and stretches both arms out flat on the back of the sofa.

“Where are you going?”

“Getting something chocolatey for my two favorite people! Keep drinking that smoothie!"

Harry giggles amusedly as Louis runs dramatically around the corner into the hall. The overwhelmed teen wants to say _Thank You_ , but if he opens his mouth again, surely only pathetic sobbing noises will come out. Louis isn't leaving, he wants them to be a family! Not only that, but the older man is also being so considerate right now, granted a bit silly. He still is Louis Tomlinson after all, and Harry wouldn't want this moment any other way.

“Harry! Harry! _Hazza_!?”

“ _What_!?”

“You're pregnant!” Louis shouts back teasingly from the kitchen. “How is this even possible? What have you been smoking!?"

"Uh, I have bonus reproductive organs, genius!" The amused boy hollers back. "And that sex was **so** good!” He is laughing through tears, their light hearted banter is helping him feel grounded, and safe, while Louis is temporarily out of reach.

In a flash, Louis reappears in the doorway with a double chocolate chip muffin, and a seriously aroused expression on his face.

“ _Yeah_? Wanna do it again?”

Harry's eyes go wide, and a hint of pink reappears across his cheeks.

“You up for it?” Louis' thin lips curl into a mischievous smirk. He reclaims his seat next to Harry, passing him the new muffin. Wordlessly, he wipes the fresh tear tracks from Harry's cheeks with his thumb. "It's been ages, I'd love to... if _you_ want to."

Harry loves the idea of his boyfriend staying home, but sex is the farthest thing from his mind right now, especially kinky sex. He looks around the living room, taking in every square inch just to buy himself a few extra seconds. He doesn't feel sexy in any way, shape or form, and his head is still a bit woozy.

"Do we have to do it here?" He asks nervously, eyes settling on the glass coffee table.

"No, Harry, we'll go back to bed," Louis shakes his head; he's not so sure the boy wants to do this. "Want to just lay down instead? Can watch a movie on your laptop, and cuddle. Maybe sleep some more?"

This plan sounds a lot better, however, now that Harry has been awake for a couple hours, the morning sickness has returned, and his unbuttoned jeans feel like they're two sizes too small. Just a minute ago everything felt so good, not forced, but now something doesn't feel right; he's definitely forgetting something, and it's only raising his anxiety levels.

"Is Liam supposed to be here this morning?"

 _That was it, Liam!_ "He's supposed to call in..." Harry scans the room again for a clock, "in less than an hour."

"Really?" Louis sighs, he thought they had more time than that. "Harry, this is like **_the_ ** best day of my life, and honestly, I refuse to let anything ruin it for us."

**~ • ~**

 

"Still no reply?" Louis asks between nibbles on Harry's clavicle, cock grinding slowly against the boy's thigh.

"No, and I'm getting worried," Harry places his phone down on the freshly-washed sheets. "It's already half ten. Do you think he lost his phone?"

"I doubt it. Li's attached to that thing, so he's probably just-" Louis stops twisting Harry's curls around his fingers mid-sentence. "Don't take it personally. If I know him like I think I do, he's probably helping someone right now, not ignoring you on purpose. I'll try calling him soon. He can't ignore **me** forever. Anyway…"

Louis gives Harry a quick peck on the cheek before sliding his other hand out from under Harry's shoulder blade. Taking in the sight of the stunning boy lying beneath him, Louis presses his palm flat against the headboard, and shudders; he really needs to come. Cuddling for an hour was just what they both needed, but inevitably, hands started roaming, and mouths starting kissing. Not only did it take forever for Harry to get into a comfortable position, the boy saw the time when Louis accidentally knocked his phone on the floor, and now neither of them can keep aroused. Sure the past half hour has been impossible, however, Louis is not ready to give up.

"You know, I don't _have_ to go to work after lunch. We can keep trying, if you really want to."

Harry shrugs, "I dunno. I need to move, please." He wants to do this, truly he wants to be close with Louis more than anything right now but nothing is happening despite all of Louis' effort. It's embarrassing, and this must be incredibly frustrating for the older man.

Louis looks down at Harry's wiggling hips before the curly-haired lad scooches further down on the mattress. "Everything alright?" He has been trying to ignore the elephant in the room so they can fool around, but Harry's exposed stomach is all he can focus on.

"Sorry, Lou, I just... I'm thinking too much and this isn't fun."

"Hey, it's alright," Louis reassures him. "I don't want to stress you out, we don't have to have sex, OK?" Louis sits back on his heels, taking any and all weight off of Harry's body.

"Thank you," Harry smiles, rubbing the back of a hand over his eyes to shield his flushed, and embarrassed face.

"Does your stomach hurt or you just feel uncomfortable?" Louis inquires softly. He's dying to touch the boy's tummy, caress the skin that's going to stretch and protect their child.

Harry squints up to see his boyfriend staring down at his naked belly in amazement. No one has ever asked him questions like these before, and it takes him aback. Louis seems to be fascinated by the whole thing, which is exciting for both of them. Good thing too, because the younger lad is just not ready to be intimate.

"It's been fluctuating between fluttering butterflies and relentless rock tumbler," Harry smiles. "It takes some getting used to but it's not terrible. I don't have periods really, not like girls do, so I only feel, I dunno how to describe this but like, remember when you umm... hit my _spot?_ " The suddenly shy teen whispers with cheeks as red as apples, "that feeling was totally new. Could feel it up inside here," Harry's index finger slowly draws an invisible circle just above the base of his penis. "So intense, like I came somehow."

Louis' face cracks into a grin to match Harry's; he's so proud of his boyfriend for sharing this personal information. Additionally, the erotic memory of Harry creaming all over him will stay with him for the rest of his life.

"We'll see the doctor when we get back, yeah? Or we can go to one in the States. Up to you. I want us to do everything right."

"Let's wait, please. I like my doctor here. She's one of the nicer ones."

"Alright, fair enough," Louis nods agreeingly. "What about smoking? What are we going to do about that?"

Before Harry can respond, his phone starts ringing. Louis swipes the vibrating device off the bed with a glint of mischief in his eye.

"Liam! Thought you were dead, mate!"

Harry swats Louis' arm, and whispers, "don't joke like that." Desperate to pee again, he crawls out from under Louis' straddled legs, and jogs hurriedly to the toilet. Meanwhile, Louis starts grilling his best friend about his current whereabouts.

"Don't bullshit me now, where are you? Harry's been here waiting for you... I took the morning off, we had important stuff to sort out... No, nothing bad... What!? Why the hell did you go there!?" Louis quickly checks the doorway to see if his boyfriend is within earshot. The coast is clear.

"Why didn't you just call me!? I was going to tell him about that today, but honestly, she is the least of my worries right now... Don't listen to her, Liam, for fucks sake, man. Well if she hates me she probably hates you too!... Yeah, yeah, right.... He's fine but worried sick about you. Thanks a lot, mate. Look, are you coming over today or not? Hazza's not going to relax until he knows what's going on, and we have some big news and... I said I will tell him about Eleanor later! Ya know, you still haven't told me where you're at, or who you're with... Are you at a fucking pub?... I hate when you do this... Hello? Did you seriously just hang up on me? Liam, hello!? Fuckwit!"

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, each and every one of you, for taking the time to read this story. It means the world ❤️ and as always, I hope you get something out of it too.
> 
> Questions? Concerns? Please let me know. Finally on Twitter 👍 @Urkle88. I need Larries in my life! lol. Kudos and comments are love. XxPv


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